


Apocalypse Herald

by FreshMess



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, Fallout 4 - Freeform, Fluff, Nose jokes, Possible Smut - Sorry I'm Indecisive, Slow Burn, Time Travel, dad jokes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 19:50:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7187708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshMess/pseuds/FreshMess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scarlett Kidd has rid the Commonwealth of its Boogeyman. Now she must deal with her own when a time travel experiment goes wrong and sends her back to October 2281.</p>
<p>*Specific warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Misplaced

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first public piece of fanfiction. Hope you enjoy it! If you have any suggestions or comments feel free to give them. Feedback is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading :]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong language*

Blinding blue light enveloped her. Scarlett awoke with a start that sent her militia hat askew. Her head throbbed and nausea wracked her body. She opened blurry eyes and managed to turn onto her side before retching. Her glasses clattered to the ground with a disheartening crack.

She reached up and gingerly rubbed her temples, painfully aware of the weight of her Pip-Boy. _Where the hell am I?_ She glanced around warily from her position in the middle of an old street, a heavy dread forming in the pit of her stomach. She picked up her cracked glasses, adjusting them on her face and frowning at the somewhat familiar sight.

An empty and desolate Sanctuary Hills stretched out before her. Scar blinked in bewilderment before looking down at her Pip-Boy and flipping through various readouts and information. _That can’t be right_ … She flipped the nob back and forth with a frown and furrowed brow. The date remained the same. She pushed to her feet with a groan, trying to keep herself from swaying.

“FUCK!!!” Scarlett shouted into the ether and rubbed her head again. _Okay, keep calm… don’t panic_. She began pacing whilst trying to discern how she could have arrived here. She was pleased to find she still had her rucksack. However the meager supplies she’d prepared were clearly only meant for a short trip. She checked her Pip-Boy again. A shiver ran down her spine. Again, the glowing time and date, _8:42pm October 11, 2281_ taunted her.

 _Tom must’ve made some mistake while working on the chip. A. Big. Fucking. Mistake._ Scar continued to pace in the same wide circle. If only she could remember what they had been working on. She knew she'd been going to Sanctuary when they'd been working together, but couldn’t remember why. Her head felt fuzzy. She vaguely recollected Tom warning her of something.

It was getting darker by the minute and she decided to set up camp in an old house with a defensive perimeter of mines. After getting a fire going in the attached carport, she heated up some scavenged Instamash and Pork n’ Beans. Sitting next to the fire, she ate in quiet contemplation hoping the disorientation would pass soon.

 _So… I’m in the right place, but definitely the wrong time. A molecular relay is only supposed to operate as a teleportation device, not a GODDAMN TIME MACH-…Oh…_ Scarlet hurriedly flipped the nob on her Pip-Boy and began to read through her notes. Her brow creased and she re-read the entry about the device being recently modified.

With a grimace, she suddenly remembered some of her conversation with Tinker Tom. He ultimately had succeeded. He'd manged to create a time traveling device from the modified molecular relay chip. Unfortunately, his date calculations appeared to be off. Very off. He hadn’t been too far off about the possible repercussions though.

* * *

_You might experience a few mild side effects, nothing too worrisome.” Tom feigned nonchalance, but his shifty demeanor tipped her off._

_“Uh-huh... and what constitutes as ‘mild side effects’ Tom?” Scarlett prodded with narrowed eyes._

_“Oh, y’know, headaches, nausea, disorientation, some short-term memory loss, and you mayyyy lose some extremities, but nothing too important!” Tom rushed out the last details like a bad pharmaceutical infomercial hoping to be ignored._

_Scarlett crossed her arms and scoffed, “Those don’t sound very mild… I don’t think I’m comfortable with this anymore.”_

* * *

 Upon recalling the memory, Scarlett frantically checked all her limbs were intact. Which they were. Sore, but definitely intact. With a sigh of relief, she readied her bedroll and crawled in. _I need to find Tinker Tom… or someone with comparable knowledge of technology._ Her exhaustion pulled her towards sleep quickly despite her anxiously racing thoughts.

When she woke in the morning, she disarmed the mines and resolved to head off towards Diamond City. She had no idea where the Railroad HQ would be located in 2281, and she was wary of what Goodneighbor would be like. Diamond City seemed the safest place to start. _Would Tom even be with the railroad during this time?_ Only one way to find out, she mused.

She began her journey at a quick pace and had plenty of time to ponder her slightly altered state and surroundings. _Why would I have risked such terrible side effects for Tom’s time travel experiment? I wonder how long it will be until my memory returns fully…_

There was no Dogmeat waiting to greet her at the Red Rocket Truck Stop this time as she passed by. _Maybe his original owners are trying to potty train him._ The thought had her smirking sadly despite her present circumstances. _I miss that mangy mutt._

She trudged onward wondering where the rest of her friends and companions would be right now. With any luck Nick Valentine could be found in Diamond City. Hopefully he’d be able to aid her in tracking Tom down, or the Railroad at least.

She also realized that contacting her future friends as little as possible would probably be for the better to avoid confusion in the future. So, basically she had to get through all this as quickly and quietly as possible. She sighed morosely at the thought. _Ugh, this IS giving me a headache… Thanks a lot Tom._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always felt like Tinker Tom should've had some wackier missions considering that personality of his, and so it begins! Also, he reminded me of a more mild and tech-minded Moira Brown... is that just me?


	2. Make New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language*

There hadn’t been much of a reception at the city’s gates. Scarlett managed to gain entrance after brainstorming and dropping the name McDonough. She knew he wasn’t currently the mayor of Diamond City, but figured he must’ve been a well-known citizen at least. She would’ve been honest about knowing Nick, but she wasn’t sure if the townsfolk were fond of him or not.

Luckily, there was no Publick Occurrences yet, so she didn’t have to worry about dodging the inquisitive reporter. She reached the market and was startled by the amount of ghoul citizens she witnessed. _Ah, that’s right… McDonough boots them out when he becomes mayor._ She kept her head down and made her way to the Dugout Inn for the evening.

Weary from traveling all day, sleep sounded way more appealing than eating a well-balanced meal or searching for Valentine. After scarfing down some Fancy Lad Snack Cakes, Scar plopped onto the bed putting aside her hat and glasses. Then she was out.

* * *

_“C’mon, isn’t there anything in the past you wish you could’ve done differently? This is groundbreaking new technology! I wanna see if it works! Just do a small jump back to Sanctuary Hills, only 10 minutes! It’ll be a test run.” Tom pleaded._

_Scarlett frowned… his first sentence was what really caught her attention. She’d fallen into a pit of depression after taking down the Institute recently. More than anything she wished she could go back in time and keep Nate and Shaun alive. ‘Maybe if this time travel really works, I could save them…’_

_Scar obviously didn’t want to lose her mind, or any limbs, but if it meant she could have her husband and child back… maybe that wasn’t such a bad trade-off. Plus, if she raised her own child, the Institute would grow from the ideals of a new leader. There might not ever be a Boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Shaun would never become the monster called ‘Father’._

_A siren song was sounding in her ears, inherently wrong, but impossible to ignore. Tumultuous feelings crashed through her like water on jagged rocks, but she was desperate and beyond caring for her own safety when facing such temptation. It's worth a try right?_

_“Alright Tom… I’m in. What do we need to do?”_

* * *

 Scarlett jolted awake, covered in sweat. Her head throbbed and swam with the newly resurfaced memory. The ball of dread that she had in the pit of her stomach since arriving in the wrong Sanctuary seemed to grow. Or maybe that was hunger _…I need to get a real meal. I may not have brought much with me, but at least I’ve got a sizable cap stash._

She headed down to the Diamond City Market in search of food and her eyes settled on Power Noodles. She absentmindedly took a seat. When Takahashi turned to her with his one and only line, she cut him off with an immediate yes.

Scar scooped up the steaming bowl of noodles and handed the robot his caps. Then she withdrew a knife and a tato from her bag. She sliced the mutated veggie into thick chunks, added them to the bowl, and stirred. She ate slowly whilst stealing discreet glances around the bustling market.

A small bubbly ghoul girl played tag with another little boy and girl. Scarlett smiled at the sight and shook her head. _Too bad the soon-to-be-mayor McDonough is such a dick. The kids obviously aren’t prejudiced._ She felt her skin prickle with the feeling of being watched. She maintained her casual attitude as she scanned around with her peripherals.

A blond haired man with sunglasses was sitting a couple seats down from her smoking a cigarette and casting lingering looks in her direction. _Curious monkey eh?_

She wasn’t wearing her vault suit, just her ballistic weave armored summer shorts attire. She had even gone so far as removing and storing her Pip-Boy in her bag. She didn’t want to draw attention. She was puzzled by his interest, but acted completely oblivious.

 _Please don’t be Deacon… actually, maybe if it’s Deacon I can find Tom without bothering Nick._ She accidentally made eye contact. Not that she could see his eyes through the dark shades. The young man took immediate notice and tipped his head at her with a somewhat familiar rakish grin and arched brow. She thought he looked too young to be Deacon. However, with the facial reconstructive surgery Deacon so commonly claimed who knows?

She quickly averted her gaze with a blush and slurped down more noodles. The person sitting between them finished and left.

“Thought he’d never leave. Hope I’m not intruding.” The man shifted into the newly vacated seat. He had a pleasant voice, which also sounded somewhat familiar but very un-Deacon. _There isn’t such a thing as vocal reconstructive surgery is there?_

“Intrusive isn’t the word I’d use, and neither is subtle… do I know you from somewhere?” Scarlett replied warily before taking another bite of noodles. That grin of his reappeared as he took off his shades and pocketed them.

“I don’t think so, I tend to remember a pretty face… although by the way you ordered from Takahashi, seems you’ve been here before.” He fixed his piercing blue gaze on her. _Is he flirting with me? …maybe he’s just on ‘tats, but goddamn he’s observant._ She mulled over a variety of responses, unsure whether to be honest or lie. _…way to give yourself away, should’ve let the robot finish his sentence earlier. Too late to play the new girl now._

“Yeah, I’ve spent some time here. I’m Scarlett Kidd… and I’m a friend of Nick Valentine. Know where I can find ‘im?” The man’s smile faltered a bit, but he nodded briefly.

“Pleasure to meet ya Scarlett, John McDonough at your service… I can point you in his direction.” She choked on her noodles briefly before coughing and doing a double-take. John gave her a puzzled look and hesitated before patting her on the back gently.

“You okay? You’re looking at me like I’ve got somethin’ on my face…” he chuckled. _Just my luck… How did I not realize that sooner?_

“Yeah, a nose…” she muttered under her breath. John frowned.

“Care to repeat that...?” He asked suspiciously. _Oh man, now I gotta save face …Ack! Bad brain, bad word choice again! Move on!_

“Sorry, uhhh… your reputation precedes you.” She managed to sputter out. John still looked skeptical, but huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, I guess word about me gets around when you’re friends with Valentine.” He sighed rubbing the back of his neck. Scarlett wasn’t sure how to reply to that since she hadn’t truthfully heard of him from Valentine. She opted for silence while she slurped down the last of her noodles.

“Well, like I said before, I can lead you to him.” He offered again. She nodded with a small smile.

“I’d appreciate that.” She withdrew a cigarette from her pack and lit it up. He extended a hand towards her as he rose and she let him help her up from her seat. _Just like Hancock woulda done…_

The walkways of Diamond City were too narrow to walk shoulder-to-shoulder, so she got a chance to examine John as she smoked and he lead her along. His wavy blonde hair fell just past his shoulders and was pulled back in a messy ponytail. His trademark outfit was obviously absent and now he wore simple jeans and a dirty t-shirt with a leather jacket.

* * *

  _She knew her friends and companions would disapprove of her reasons for agreeing to test the time travel device. Particularly Hancock as of recently. He’d spotted her downward spiral right away when she started traveling with him. She thought he’d be less judgmental about her choice to distract herself with drug fueled binges._

_Unfortunately he was more of a bleeding heart than a junkie and had spouted some bullshit about not running from your problems… He’d been trying to tell her something, but she’d been too drunk, high, and angry that night to listen. Maybe she should have…_

* * *

There was no conversation or vivid imagery to accompany the sudden barrage of past thoughts. The message was clear though and Scarlett froze like she’d been struck by the cryolator when the sudden memory overwhelmed her with guilt and regret. Being here was her fault. Sure, Tom put the equipment in her hands, but her brash naivete was an equal, if not greater, culprit. Luckily, up ahead, John stopped short at a doorway with a small rickety 'Valentine’s Detective Agency' sign. _Uhg, it’s like I’m being led by John Hancock’s ghost of Christmas Past…_ Scar shook away the phantom feelings and caught up to him. It was in a dirtier part of town than Nick's new location. 

“Here we are, good luck with the old bucket of bolts… tell him John says hello.” He gestured toward the doorway with a lopsided grin.

“Thanks John, keep that chin up and those eyes open… please be careful with the chems too.” She replied offering him a ‘thank you’ handshake. _How hypocritical of me…_ He blinked at her in surprise before barking a laugh.

“Nick must talk a lot...” He took her extended hand, yanked her in for a surprise hug before quickly releasing her, winking, and sauntering off.

“…and whatever you say dollface.” He called back over his shoulder. Scarlett just watched him go, shocked once again by his brazen demeanor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeere's Johnny! ...and the first nose joke of the story. They're terrible, I nose...


	3. But Keep the Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language & Referenced Drug Use*

Scarlett stood in front of the door, no longer confident she’d be able to convince Nick to help her. _What if he thinks I’m just crazy…? No way, I didn’t come this far to back down now._ As she reached for the door handle, her body was suddenly wracked with pain. She hesitated. The feeling intensified.

  _Not now, c’mon._ Her skin itched and her head throbbed again. _Goddamn side effects_. She bent over for a moment hoping to overcome the sudden nausea. When it had lessened enough to stand up straight, she reluctantly decided to head back to her room at the Dugout Inn.

  _At least now I know where to find Nick. I can return in the morning._ She stumbled into her room. After throwing her bag on the bed, she pulled out a can of purified water, a rag, and a bowl. She drank half the can before pouring the rest into the bowl and washing her face, hoping to clear away some of the grogginess.

 Scar frowned as she ran her hands over her face. Her skin felt oddly textured in certain areas, particularly around her left eye. _Maybe it’s just dirt_ … but as she scrubbed, the water didn’t seem to be getting much dirtier, and the texture remained. The ball of dread in her stomach grew a little more.

 She chewed her lip in thought. She knew the facial reconstructive surgeon had a mirror, but wasn’t sure if he’d part with it. She decided to pay him a visit. Maybe he would have some insight on her current condition as well. _He’s a doctor afterall._

 It was getting hard to focus and she gritted her teeth. As she made her way back to the market, she noticed bright lights seemed to aggravate the pulsing in her head. _Bah, stupid fucking time travel._ Scarlett stepped into Dr. Sun’s shop and he immediately turned to welcome her.

 “What kind of treatment can – Oh my, I’ve never seen burns like these before! They look subdermal, but you have no limb loss... and you're alive” His greeting did not inspire confidence as his eyes examined her clinically. "Your epidermis looks fully intact too. Curious."Scarlett flinched. She had expected him to say something, but that wasn’t it.

 “Um, side effects of some… innovative experiments. Do you have a handheld mirror, some stimpaks, and Med-Ex?” She asked. The Doctor looked her up and down, his gaze hesitating at her face.

 “Yes of course, although… I’m not sure a stimpak will help with that.” He dubiously replied as he took her caps.

 “I didn’t ask your opinion. Thanks.” She snapped curtly as she snatched the items from him. She bolted from the clinic and went straight back to her room. _Subdermal burns? The fuck does that mean? That shouldn't be possible._ She slammed the door behind her. Using the wet rag from earlier, she wiped the surface of the mirror clean. With a shaky breath, she held it up to examine herself.

 Scarlett gasped, nearly dropping the mirror out of shock. Her hands shook. No wonder she had been experiencing headaches. The pupil of her left eye appeared to be vastly dilated compared to her right. There was less iris than pupil looking back at her. The previously white sclera of her eye had also ruptured and now was bloodshot.

 Furthermore, the blood vessels surrounding her left eye also appeared to be ruptured. Little angry red and deep purple fissures marred the tissue just beneath her skin, lessening in density as they stretched outward. Oddly, the skin atop the fissures looked healthy, just raised over the damage underneath. In a bit of a panic, she shucked off her boots and began removing all her clothing to examine the rest of herself.

 The ruptured blood vessels also appeared to be branching up her right foot, past her ankle. They hadn’t yet reached her knee. Some of her toes had actually turned an odd mottled purple-brown color. _Oh god, what if I do end up losing a toe just like Tom said?_ She flexed them and they all appeared to be fully functioning, although they all felt swollen.

 She slowly noticed more and more. A small patch on the back left of her jaw that stretched up around her ear. Another small patch extended down just past her hairline on the upper right side of her face and a tiny patch on her upper right cheekbone. A patch spanned over several ribs on her left side, over her stomach and reached up to just underneath her breast. A patch on her right hip the size of her palm.

 The spots looked like delicate crimson, purple, and brown tendrils of lightning. Almost like her blood vessels or nerves had been scorched from the time travel. The scarred tissue appeared to be hardening as well. Silent tears escaped her right eye. Her scarred left eye remained suspiciously dry. She sat heavily on the bed.

  _Maybe John wasn’t flirting with me afterall, just tactfully commenting on my memorable appearance…_ She sniffled and redressed slowly before crawling into bed and curling up into a ball. She began to drift towards sleep … _Seems like something he’d do._ _No wonder I caught his eye._ She dreamt in memories again.

* * *

  _“Alright, I’m cutting you off sunshine. You’ve had enough psycho and whisky to kill a Brahmin.” Hancock pocketed the syringe she’d been reaching for. Luckily they had run out of booze a little over an hour ago._

_"You’re just being greedy Hancock. I’m self-medicating, give it back.” She snipped, fixing her glare on him. After seeing her gut raiders without batting an eye, it was intimidating truth be told. Right now though, he knew she wasn’t steady enough to stomp a radroach._

_“No, you’re being self-destructive. There’s a difference. C’mon, let’s get you to bed.” He answered hoisting her up with an arm around her waist. He saw a bit of himself in her now that wasn’t there before, and he didn’t like it._

_“I was hoping you’d take advantage…’bout time.” She mumbled. Hancock scoffed as he dropped her on her mattress. He wasn’t forceful about it, but neither was he gentle. He was pissed._

_“Sister, you’re fucked up. That ain’t my style, and trust me… you don’t wanna wake up to this mug. There’s a reason I look like this. Maybe I’ll tell you when you're sober since it seems you could use a lesson in moderation and humility.” He sighed as she sat up glowering at him._

_As much as her sorrow ate at him, he was hoping she’d just cry herself to sleep. Then they could work things out in the morning. Unfortunately after all the psycho it seemed she was looking for a fuck or a fight. Hancock wasn’t in the mood for either at the moment._

_“What, I’m not good enough for you? You’re always on chems, where do you get off being so high n’ mighty huh?” She stood up and got right in his face. CLICK. Her rage turned to shock as she looked down at her wrist handcuffed to the bed frame._

_“Always wanted to do that… although I imagined it with better circumstances. I don’t wanna fight you. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” He spun and exited the room without looking back._

_Scarlett curled into herself on the bed. She was too high to escape the handcuffs. Normally, it would’ve taken her seconds. That was her first clue that Hancock was right. She was also too high to go to sleep. Instead she lay awake feeling more pitiful and ashamed than she thought possible._

_As the light of dawn seeped through the window and the drug-induced static cleared from her head, she picked the lock on the handcuffs. The Commonwealth deserved a better leader. A hero, she was not. She knew what she needed to do._

* * *

 Scarlett woke in the morning, once again covered in sweat with a throbbing headache. The memory of her encounter with Hancock didn’t help the ever-growing ball of dread in her stomach. She rolled out of bed and padded over to her bag, withdrawing one of the stimpaks and plunging it into her arm.

She waited but her pain didn’t recede. She held up the small mirror to examine herself again. The same scarred face stared back at her. _I guess Dr. Sun was right… so no more wasted stimpaks, although next time the pain gets severe I’m gonna use some of that Med-Ex._

She ate a small breakfast of Sugar Bombs and mutfruit while she took inventory of her supplies and repacked her bag. _Gonna need to find some work soon or I’ll be out of caps._ Fortunately she had some pretty powerful weaponry. Between her modded sniper rifle, modded combat shotgun, and explosives, a scavenging run wasn’t out of the question either.

 _Although I’ll probably need to stock up on ammo. First I need to speak with Valentine._ She slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way outside. The sun stung her eyes. She slid on her silly fashionable sunglasses and realized her newfound light sensitivity might be permanent. _Well, off to see Nick._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There had to be at least one fretty n' sweaty chapter.


	4. One is Silver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language & Drug Use*

Scarlett once again stood in front of the door to the Valentine Detective Agency. _Do people knock on doors anymore? I didn't the first time. I should probably just walk in and introduce myself._ Her hand was on the door handle when it surprisingly swung open. She released it and stepped back just before it smacked her in the face.

“Oh, excuse me. Nick Valentine, can I help you?” The synth before her looked nearly identical, although less banged up than his future self.

“Yes, my name is Scarlett Kidd… would you mind if we spoke inside?” she requested, shifting her feet.

“Yeah, no problem. Come on in Kidd,” he replied as he stepped aside to allow her entrance. She smirked and walked past him into the small dingy office space.

She always had a hard time telling whether people calling her kid was meant to be formal, friendly, or demeaning due to her last name. _Although I’d like to think friendly in Valentine’s case… heh, I’ll give Valentine a case._ She turned to face him as he approached her while lighting a cigarette. He took a drag and looked at her expectantly. She removed her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Right. I’m looking for a friend of mine and hoping you can help me find him. I have no idea where to start. It also might be considerably more difficult because, as far as I know he may be a member of the Railroad.” She paused momentarily to let him process the information. Nick stared at her and she heard his internal fans whirring as he continued to nurse his cigarette.

“Well, what’s his name and where did you last see him?” Nick asked. Scarlett cleared her throat as she debated how to answer.

“His name is Tinker Tom, or at least that’s what I knew him by… It’s been years since I’ve seen him.” She said cryptically. _It’s not technically a lie, it actually has been years._ Nick narrowed his electric yellow eyes at her.

“Is that all the information you can give me? ‘Cause I get the impression there is more to the story.” He urged. Scarlett’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shorts but she remained silent.

“Let me start by saying that just because I’m a synth does not mean I have any ties with either the Railroad or the Institute. Sure the Institute made me, but that’s as far as the connection goes.” He took another puff of smoke and she watched it plume from the tear in the side of his face.

“Honestly, that wasn’t my motivation in seeking you out. I just figured you were the best person to turn to since you’re a detective.” She replied in earnest. Nick nodded, but still looked suspicious.

“Is there any particular reason you’re hoping to find this guy? If it’s been years, why is it so important you find him now?” Nick pried. Scarlett bit her lip before sighing heavily. _I suppose that’s fair._

“He may be able to help me with a certain technological device that I need to… recalibrate. I suppose if I could find someone trustworthy who had advanced technical skills, I wouldn’t specifically need Tinker Tom.” She admitted. Nick finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in an overflowing ashtray.

“I still get the feeling that you’re not being entirely open with me, but I’d like to help.” Scarlett actually looked remorseful at this statement, but nodded for him to continue.

“With the information you’ve given me, I can only see two options. One is to make the dangerous trek to Goodneighbor, a town as perilous as the journey there. Option two involves following the Freedom Trail. I’ve heard rumors there is a Railroad base at the end of it, but it may just be a dead end.” Nick offered the information up with a shrug. Scarlett mulled over the new input. She knew Nick was referring to Dr. Amari in the Memory Den, but was wary of admitting it. Regardless, she was also concerned at the prospect of entering Goodneighbor since Hancock wasn’t running it.

“That’s the most I can do for you Kidd. Normally I’d offer to join on such a journey, but Goodneighbor has a certain policy towards synths currently and it ain’t friendly. However, Dr. Amari runs the Memory Den and may be able to help you. ” _He read me like a pre-war book._ She nodded in acknowledgment.

“Would you offer to join me if I decided to pursue the Freedom Trail?” Scarlett asked. _Not a good idea, you don’t wanna get too close to anyone who might recognize you later._ She knew it would be wiser to avoid future friends, but she had to admit she missed him. Nick seemed startled by her request.

“You actually want to travel with a synth? Tell you what, why don’t you sleep on it. If you decide you’d rather follow the Freedom Trail I’ll join you. If you’d like to make your way to Goodneighbor, I’ll contact an acquaintance of mine who could probably lead you there. Sound fair?” Nick stared at Scar awaiting her confirmation.

“Is your acquaintance John McDonough by any chance?” Scarlett was fairly certain she knew the answer. She didn’t want the two of them discussing her if she could avoid it considering the white lies she’d already told John. Nick hesitated, but ultimately didn’t seem surprised.

“Figures you already know him. If you decide to go the Goodneighbor route, then you can ask him to escort you. He makes that trip somewhat regularly.” Nick finished. Scarlett smiled warmly.

“Thank you for your help Nick. I’ll sleep on it and get back to you tomorrow morning. Oh, and John told me to say hello for him.” She said. Nick smiled back and extended his metal hand for a handshake. Scar looked at it briefly. _I’m gonna take a note from John on this one._ She grabbed his hand and yanked him in for a surprise embrace. Nick was stiff as steel at first, but relaxed and hugged her back with a chuckle after a moment. With that, Scarlett released him and took her leave. As she stepped outside and closed the door, she leaned against it and collected herself.

She slipped her sunglasses back on and headed to the market once again. She sidled up to Commonwealth Weaponry and purchased ammunition from Arturo. When Scar was well stocked for her future travels she had worked up an appetite and decided to have another meal at Power Noodles. She took a seat and was about to dig into her bowl of noodles when someone sat down quite boisterously next to her, bumping her in the arm. A bit of broth sloshed out of her bowl and she turned to scold the person when she realized it was John with a self-satisfied smile plastered on his face.

“Hey sunshine, you come here often?” He playfully nudged her again, and this time she managed to keep the liquid where it belonged. She rolled her eyes at him, then realized he probably couldn’t see her reaction hidden behind her oversized shades.

“You’re incorrigible, y’know that?” She tutted with a smirk she tried to stifle. She removed her glasses and pocketed them before taking a big bite of noodles. John ordered a bowl of noodles as well this time.

“I prefer to call it strength of character.” He replied with a sly look. “Speaking of characters, you get to speak with Nicky yet?”

“Yes, and consequently I may need a guide to Goodneighbor at some point soon. You up for the task?” She asked shoveling another large bite of noodles into her mouth. John’s silence took her by surprise and she turned to find him with an assessing stare.

“Why’d you wanna go to Goodneighbor? Take it as a compliment when I say you don’t seem like the type.” He answered more serious than she’d ever heard him. She stirred the noodles in her bowl. He had yet to take a bite of his and appeared to be awaiting her response.

“I may need to visit Dr. Amari.” Scarlett finally spoke before taking another bite. John hesitated before slurping a bite of his own food and chewing contemplatively.

“I can take you, but I can’t guarantee your safety. As much as I’d like to.” He admitted guiltily.

“Also, you’ll most likely have to do something for the guy who runs the place. Generally caps or a favor. I doubt you’ll stay off his radar for long.” John finished and ate another spoonful of noodles. Scar was about halfway through her bowl when she felt another one of her headaches coming on. She tensed up and lifted her glasses back on. _Maybe I need to constantly wear these outside? Please let me finish this conversation._ John seemed to pick up on the shift in her behavior, but made no comment. Although he did seem to be watching her closely as he continued eating.

“I think I can manage my own safety if you get us there.” She said tautly. Scar managed a couple more bites before the nausea began to overcome her. She pushed the bowl away. _Goddammit, I wish they had to-go containers these days._ John’s eyes followed her as she abruptly rose from her stool. The throbbing headache deepened. _I should have left as soon as it started._

“Excuse me, perhaps we can finish this conversation later.” She managed to stammer out, turning brusquely to head back to the Dugout Inn.

“Didn’t mean to insult ya.” John called after her, but she was already making her way around the corner. _I need to use the Med-Ex._ Unfortunately she only made it to an alleyway before falling to her knees and emptying the contents of her stomach. _Well, there goes a good 50 caps._ CLACK. _My glasses better not have just landed in my wasted caps._

She pulled a Med-Ex syringe from her bag and injected herself with it. She slumped to the side resting her head against the wall. Never had she been more thankful for the cool temperature of sheet metal and the shadows provided by the setting sun. She slipped the empty syringe back into her bag and remained seated as the drug worked its way through her system. _Bah! Of course they did!_ She pulled the now smelly glasses from her mess dejectedly.

“Gotta say, didn’t peg you for the indulgent type.” Scarlett winced as John spoke from behind her. She heard his footsteps moving closer to her, but she still wasn’t ready to stand up. Especially not with the powerful painkiller coursing through her.

“Maybe you’ll fit in at Goodneighbor better than I thought.” He continued as he stopped right behind her. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen her toss her noodles, but there was no way he missed it now. She knew how it must’ve looked.

“How long have you been using?” He asked. She really wished he’d shut up. She pressed a hand into the wall to support herself as she moved to get up. She swayed when she stood to her full height. John reached out and tenderly grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

“Easy there sister. I’ll walk you over to a table outside the Dugout. Let’s go.” He slid an arm around her shoulder so she could lean against him. She hated how weak she felt. He settled her down in a chair when they’d reached a table. Then he took a seat across from her.

“I don’t typically use Med-Ex… maybe a bit of chem use here n’ there, but I don’t abuse anything.” She leaned her head into her hands. _Okay, that’s not entirely true. I haven’t used anything else since arriving in 2281._ John didn’t look convinced. She could tell he was waiting for a better explanation. She rubbed her temples then sat up a little straighter with a sigh.

“Okay, you see this?” She motioned in a circular fashion around her face. John nodded in response, leaning forward.

“This happened about 2 days go. It’s all over my body. I’m dealing with… painful repercussions of a bad decision I made. Some of it may be permanent.” She dropped her hands on the table in exasperation.

“Was the bad decision chem related?” He asked quietly. Scar shook her head once, then seemed to think better of it.

“Well, not really… I think I was using heavily before it happened, but my injuries weren’t caused by chems.” She met his eyes.

“You think?” he questioned incredulously. She shrugged sadly.

“I have a bit of short-term memory loss as a byproduct of the event. The few days before it happened have been coming back to me in bits and pieces. I’ve also been experiencing intense nausea, headaches, and let's not forget the patches. ” She said jabbing a finger towards her eye. “Stimpaks don’t help any of it, that’s why I turned to Med-Ex this time.”

“Yeah, never seen marks like those before… and I’ve seen a lot.” John leaned back in his seat and lit up a cigarette. Scarlett huffed out a bitter laugh at that. _You're gonna see things a lot worse in the near future._

“No one’s seen marks like these. First of their kind, so don’t feel left out.” Scarlett replied but didn’t elaborate. She could see John looking at her searchingly, trying to decide whether to press her on the subject.

“Look, I appreciate your help. I’m gonna get some sleep and think over what Valentine told me today. Will you still be around tomorrow morning?” She said, putting an end to the questionable topic. John looked like he wanted to say more, but just nodded.

“Good. I need to hit the road as soon as possible… would you mind meeting me here?” She stood up slowly, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, no problem. My brother wanted me to give him some campaign assistance, but I’ve been looking for an excuse to avoid it anyway.” He replied, rising from his own chair and taking a drag of smoke.

“Goodnight John, try to keep your nose outta trouble till dawn.” She responded with a smirk, turning to head inside.

“Alright Patches, sweet dreams.” John called after her with a haughty grin. Scarlett paused and wrinkled her nose.

“You can call me Scar.” She corrected him turning back around momentarily. John snorted.

“How is that better?" He implored. Scarlett understood the irony, but refused to drop the old namesake.

“That was my nickname long before this happened.” She shot back, turning around once again to head inside.

“Whatever you say Patches.” John called after her again cheekily. Scar just rolled her eyes and kept walking.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally Nick the Dick! But, halp... I can't stop making terrible nose jokes.


	5. The Other Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language*

Scarlett rinsed her mouth and drank some water before stripping down to her underwear. She sank into bed. _I love sleeping on a mattress, but goddamn it gets pricey._ It was a bit early for her to be turning in, but the Med-Ex only helped so much. She also wanted to be well rested for whichever journey she chose to make. She pulled the pillow over her head and groaned. _I can’t seem to avoid John… I already know my way to Goodneighbor, but what if they bar my entry because they don’t know me? Nick certainly made it sound like it’s going to be a harrowing experience._

Scarlett began to think maybe the Freedom Trail was a better idea after all. She realized asking Nick to join her really was just selfish. She reminded herself about avoiding him when possible, and that bringing him along would only increase the likelihood of bringing him unnecessary harm. Especially when she already knew the way there. However, she also knew that Goodneighbor was practically on the way to the Freedom Trail. In which case, didn’t it make sense to try Dr. Amari first and then continue onward if that lead was exhausted? _I wonder how much different the road to Goodneighbor will be? Maybe I should try to make the trip without John…_ She rolled over and succumbed to slumber soon after. Memories once again assaulted her sleep.

* * *

  _After escaping the handcuffs Scarlett decided to leave Sanctuary. She was too embarrassed by her actions the previous evening to bother waking Hancock. She was somewhat surprised she even remembered them. She quickly repacked her bag and headed out over the bridge to make her way to the Railroad HQ to meet up with Tinker Tom._

_“Leaving without saying goodbye eh?” She heard Hancock drearily call out from behind her. She froze momentarily before turning to face him on the bridge. “Where you runnin’ off to?”_

_“I have business to discuss with Tinker Tom. I think it’s best if I make this trip alone.” She spoke, but couldn’t look him in the eye._

_“Yeah, ya mentioned that last night. You don’t gotta do this alone. I know you’re hurtin’, but ya shouldn’t make rash decisions when you’re feelin’ that way… take it from the guy who ended up a ghoul.” He approached her, still rubbing the sand of sleep from his eyes. Scarlett meagerly kicked her foot at a broken plank._

_“I don’t belong here… If there is a way I can fix the past without –“ Hancock held his hands up and cut her off._

_“Whoa, hold up. Tom wanted you to do a test run, and even that’s risky. You can’t run from the past and ya can’t fix it. The best you can do is make the most of the present to shape a better future.” Hancock said beseechingly. He took another step forward._

_“I… I’m not cut out for this. I shouldn’t be shaping the future here. Hell, I’m from a couple centuries ago – “ Scar began, but he took another step forward, cutting her off again._

_“Didn’t seem to matter when you were looking for Shaun. What’s changed? Why does it matter where you came from?” He challenged. Scarlett opened her mouth, then closed it. She still couldn’t meet his eyes. He took another step forward and she could now see his boots on the rotting bridge before her._

_“Everything’s changed. Shaun is dead, the Institute, the Brotherhood… all gone. So much death... I had no right. I’m old broken goods. The Commonwealth needs a leader, not a relic… I’ll just mess it up more than I already have.” She tiredly took a step back as if she was going to leave. Hancock stepped forward and snatched her wrist._

_“Scar, look at me.” He practically growled, but his hold on her wrist was gentle. She finally raised her head. Her tear-brimmed eyes met his bottomless black ones._

_“We’re all broken here, doll. That’s just the way of the Commonwealth… besides, you can’t fix what ain’t broke. You had every right. We all have a right to make a difference, but not everyone does. Sometimes the best person to fix a problem is someone who’s had to fix themselves.” He said softly as he reached out and wiped a stray tear from her cheek._

_He kept her gaze as he licked the tear from his finger. That shocked a sharp laugh out of her and he gave her his signature crooked grin. Scarlett gave him a hollow smirk in return and dropped her eyes back down to the bridge underfoot._

_“C’mon, at least lemme join you on the journey there.” He requested. Scar watched the irradiated water running beneath them through the deteriorating wood._

_“Alright…” She reluctantly acquiesced, “but hurry up. If you take too long, I’m leaving without you.” She finally dragged her eyes back up to his. Hancock knocked his boots together and saluted her._

_“Aye, general. No lollygagging.” He said with mock sternness. To her surprise, he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her back towards Sanctuary. He grabbed his things quickly and popped a couple mentats as they headed back over the bridge together._

* * *

 Scarlett woke with less apprehension than the previous days. She was still somewhat nauseous and sweaty, but rose from bed quickly and gulped down some water before dressing. She grabbed her rucksack and headed outside. Upon exiting the Inn, she slid her sunglasses on and glanced around.

John was nowhere to be found. She waited around for about fifteen minutes, nibbling on a mutfruit to pass the time. Still no John. She made her way to the market and was surprised to find it was oddly quiet. _Where is everyone?_ Scar decided to make her way to Valentine’s place and check in with him before skipping town. He was sitting at his desk smoking and was evidently deep in thought. He hadn't even noticed her come in.

“Good morning Nick.” She greeted, startling him out of his ponderings.

“Oh, hey Kidd. Mornin’ to you too. How’s it going?” He rose from his chair.

“Alright. I was gonna head out today. Any idea why the market is so deserted right now?” She inquired. Nick looked concerned.

“Well, McDonough announced he’s officially running for mayor and the clincher is he’s doing it on an anti-ghoul platform. I would assume the market is dead because the good citizens of Diamond City are trying to decide how to respond.” When he finished relaying the information he shook his head, seemingly in disappointment and took another drag off his cigarette.

“There isn’t anything that can be done about it either huh.” She grimly stated. She knew how this particular story would unfold. Nick shook his head again somberly.

“Well, that explains John’s absence too…” Scar mumbled.

“I wouldn’t count on John being there for you at a time like this. He’s got a good heart, but he’s somewhat unreliable.” Nick looked up at her, and somehow he looked tired. _It always amazes me how expressive he is._

“So I guess asking him to be a guide in the first place was kind of a joke, eh?” She gave Nick a humorless smirk.

“He’ll probably turn up in a day or two somewhat worse for wear. He might’ve made the trip to Goodneighbor without you.” Nick replied. Scarlett just nodded in response.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head out. Thank you for your help. I’ll swing back into town if I need any further assistance.” She said. Nick seemed hesitant.

“You sure you don’t want company Kidd?” He asked doubtfully.

“I really appreciate the offer, but I don’t wanna endanger you unnecessarily. I’ll be alright, I know the way there.” She said, trying to reassure him.

“Y’know, you could always wait for John to return. He always comes back eventually.” Nick's voice was still laced with concern. Scarlett just shook her head again, this time with a smile, and clapped him on the back.

“You got a heart of gold Nick, matches your eyes.” She said with a wink as she turned to leave.

“Hey Kidd,” He spoke up as she reached for the door, “Be careful out there, it’d be good to see you again in one piece.”

“I’ll do my best Nick, but no promises.” Scar said with a grin as she slipped on her shades and headed outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Nick the Dick. Love me some bionic Humphrey Bogart <3


	6. Walkin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language, Violence, & Drug Use*

As soon as Scarlett was out of Diamond City, she tucked herself into an old building and slipped on her armor. Her last addition was her handy dandy Pip-Boy. It had creeped her out when she had initially taken it from is skeletal owner, but now it was like an old friend.

 _It’s good to be back on the road again._ She missed having a companion to watch her back, but she had to admit going solo did give her a stealth advantage.

More than once Scar found a conveniently placed staircase where she could creep up to a rooftop and pick off unsuspecting raiders. The recon scope of her sniper rifle helped her keep track of targets when they inevitably scattered in panic, unsure where the shots hailed from.

However, she didn’t always have the luxury of such advantageous positions. When she was forced to take to the streets, she swapped her rifle for her shotgun. _It’s amazing what you can accomplish with a little crouch and cover._ Things seemed to be going remarkably well and she had relieved many corpses of their caps n’ ammo.

As the day wore on, Scarlett began to get comfortable with her sneak and shoot routine. She was also craving some good travel tunes, but the thought of ruining her stealth opportunities kept that impulse in check. _I’m so tired of Diamond City Radio too. I wish it had more… HOLOTAPES. I forgot about my holotapes!_

Scarlett owned an expansive collection of pre-war music and managed to salvage some of it from the wreckage of her old home. She kept all her holotapes jumbled together, and hadn’t picked up any new ones since she’d time traveled. So, naturally she hadn’t bothered to look at her collection since. _I can blame my memory lapse on the side effects this time right?_ She joked to herself.

She shuffled through the tapes in her bag and withdrew one. It was excitedly inserted into her Pip-Boy without hesitation or a second thought.

 _“_ _I’m walkin’,_

_Yes indeed._

_I’m talkin’,_

_‘_ _bout you n’ me._

_I’m hopin’,_

_that you’ll come back to meee._

_Mhmm.”_

The sound of Fats Domino singing I’m Walkin’ rang out with its catchy bass line and upbeat clapping.

Scarlett hummed along with extra pep in her step. She rounded the next corner and stopped short as the sound of a howling mutant hound drowned out the cheerful tune. _Aw, shit!_ She quickly fired a couple rounds into the beast, taking it down with head shots. Unfortunately, it had already alerted the accompanying Super Mutants in the area.

She cursed at the dreaded beeping sound of a Suicider headed her way. She fumbled to swap her shotgun for her sniper rifle, hoping to detonate the mini nuke before it could get within range of her.

The Suicider had already rounded the corner ahead and was within sight, although not yet within blast range. Fats Domino could still be heard over the distant beeping and surging of her adrenaline.

Scarlett lined up the shot. As she pulled the trigger, the gun clicked.

_"What you gonna do when the well runs dry?”_

Her stomach dropped. There were no rounds in the chamber.

_"You gonna run away and hide.”_

She began backpedaling as she hurriedly reloaded.

The beeping drew ominously closer as the Suicider advanced and she scrambled backwards, swinging the rifle up again to take aim.

_“I’m gonna run right by your side…”_

She fired and her bullet found its mark, but it was a moment too late.

_“For you pretty baby I’d even die.”_

The explosion of blood and chunks threw her back. As her head smacked a hard surface, Fats Domino faded away and everything went black.

Scarlett jerked awake and instantly regretted the sudden movement. Her head throbbed painfully and her vision blurred with each throb. _Well, that’s a concussion. How long was I out?_ She looked up at the sky, which was steadily darkening at this point. She sighed defeatedly, but took a moment to be thankful that she’d landed behind the shell of a destroyed vehicle.

 _It must've kept me hidden from the other mutants._ She wearily pulled herself to her feet, resting most of her weight on the stripped frame of the car. Her left leg had a dark red spot gradually seeping into her shorts. She winced, limping with slowed movements into the husk of a nearby building and slumping into a corner.

After pulling out a couple stimpaks, she hissed as she plunged one into her neck. Her head began to clear up almost immediately. She checked her leg and found a small hunk of metal shrapnel imbedded in muscle of her thigh. She pulled a bottle of vodka from her bag and a leather belt. After using the leather belt to tourniquet her leg, she counted to three.

Scarlett gritted her teeth and tried not to cry out as she doused her wound in vodka and yanked the protruding metal out. She doused the wound again and applied a stimpak to it. The flesh knitted itself back together before her eyes and she leaned her head back against the wall.

The wound healed into a shiny pink scar. A few silent tears of relief escaped her right eye and her left eye once again remained dry. At this point, she guessed the scarring of the tissue around her left eye must have damaged her tears ducts there.

 _Note to self, no more music while exploring the wasteland! Although, I suppose the true culprit was the mag I forgot to reload…_ She hobbled around the room setting up a perimeter of mines, making sure they were placed a safe distance from herself.

She had decided to spend the night and continue on in the morning. After pulling out her bedroll, she ate a small dinner of Blamco Mac n’ Cheese and yielded to the pull of sleep soon after finishing. Memories flooded her dreams as usual.

* * *

 " _Yeah, but that’s a given when you got me around. I don’t mean no harm by it. And I don’t want that to affect what we got.” Hancock’s words from over a month ago chased themselves through her head. She had taken the rejection well at the time. She probably hadn’t been ready for a romantic relationship yet anyway._

_Since then she’d tried to keep herself somewhat distant. Her chem-induced slip up in Sanctuary had been the only blunder in regards to her feelings. Oh man, she’d really messed that one up… However, Hancock’s reaction to it and his compassion the next day had caught her off guard._

_Light-hearted flirtations were one thing, but he’d been a true friend to her when she’d needed it most. Good friends were hard to find pre-war, and even more appreciated in the harsh reality of the Commonwealth._

_Now, she was having a harder time keeping her emotions in check. The feeling of his fingers laced through hers burned into memory and her hand itched. She reached for her shotgun and began cleaning it as the two sat quietly by the fire._

_They had already eaten and set up a defensive perimeter. Their bedrolls were ready, but neither of them were tired just yet. Hancock’s eyes followed her hands. She pretended not to notice the way her skin prickled at his gaze._

_“Y’know you already cleaned that gun right?” he said cautiously. Scarlett didn’t pause her ministrations. Hancock shrugged, pulled out his mentats tin, and popped a couple before extending the box in her direction._

_“Care for dessert? I’m all out of berry and orange, but there's still grape.” he rasped. Scar wondered vaguely if he was testing her or teasing her. She shook her head and began cleaning her gun more fervently. Hancock arched a brow, or what was left of it, before snapping the lid shut on the tin and pocketing it._

_“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Don’t gotta stop all at once… It’s harder on the body that way actually.” He said. Scarlett stopped and put her gun aside with a sigh. She pulled out her cigarettes and lit one up as if to make a point. Truthfully, she wasn’t just doing it for herself. She was also nervous about making the mistake of coming onto him again._

_“I’ve seen you sweatin’ the last few days. Why not just take some addictol?” He asked suddenly. She exhaled a plume and met his eyes._

_“It’s a matter of principle… Willpower and responsibility are important to me. Addictol is taking the easy way out.” She replied as she pushed some dirt with the toe of her boot. Hancock eyed her appraisingly._

_“That’s all well and good as long as you’re not punishing yourself.” He reclined, leaning back on his elbows. She snorted._

_“Only a little. I’m not being a martyr, I just wanna pay the price for the stupid choices I’ve made. It’s more of a reminder than it is penance.” She mumbled, taking another drag from her cigarette._

_“Hmph. Understandable, but still sounds a bit like splittin’ hairs to me.” He rolled the remaining mentat around his mouth. She met his gaze again and tried not to focus on the way his eyes glistened in the firelight._

_“Maybe. Call me old fashioned, but if I can kick the habit without taking a drug to counteract an overabundance of drugs, I’d rather do that.” She answered with a shrug. That got a grin out of him. Scarlett shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, scooting a little closer to the fire._

_Hancock paused for a moment before taking off his frock coat and offering it to her. She stared at it and bit her lip before shaking her head. Hancock just shook it at her gently._

_“Ghouls run hot from radiation doll. It’s no skin off my nose, much too late for that.” She laughed and his grinned widened._

_“C’mon, no need to be a martyr. You said it yourself.” He pushed._

_“Well, when you put it that way…” Scar scooted closer to him to take the coat. She shrugged into it and was annoyed at how much she relished the smell. Cigarette smoke, gunpowder, and dust tinged with the slightly heady smell of chemicals. Underneath that though, was the warm musky scent that was uniquely Hancock._

_Scarlett suppressed another shiver, although this one wasn’t from the cold. She hoped he hadn’t noticed and looked over to find he’d tipped his tricorn forward just far enough to cover his eyes._

_“Thank you. I’ll take first watch.” She said quietly._

_“Always welcome," He responded before rolling on his side, "...and whatever you say sister.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I can't help myself with the nose jokes. Is that mean?
> 
> Also, I love Fats Domino. I was disappointed so much music in Fallout 4 was simply recycled from Fallout 3.  
> So, for those interested, the song in the chapter is called I'm Walkin' by Fats Domino (as mentioned). 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqs5gkyH930


	7. Welcome (back) to Goodneighbor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language & Drug Use*

Scarlett woke feeling ragged as usual, if not more so given the encounters of the previous day. She downed a can of purified water, slipped her sunglasses on, and did her best to ignore the nausea she felt. After disarming and collecting the perimeter of mines she hit the road.

Scar was much more cautious about reloading and keeping quiet now in retrospect of her mistakes. The last leg of her journey was rather uneventful. She took out some raiders, Super Mutants, and rabid mongrels, but nothing too challenging. By now she had collected more caps and ammo than she had entered Diamond City with, so she was feeling fairly optimistic.

As she approached Goodneighbor, she noticed a few things immediately. There was no soft fluorescent buzz of a neon sign to welcome her. The singular flaming trash can was still out front, although it appeared to be accompanied by a very large pile of trash. Presumably, the trash was fuel for the flames. Regardless, the smell was unpleasant.

Scar took off her Pip-Boy and packed it into her bag. She was filled with apprehension as she jostled open the rusty hunk of metal that served as a door. She had a brief moment of wonder at what she’d find on the other side. Then she pressed onward into the now unfamiliar territory.

After stepping inside the town, she had to make an effort not to sneer at the sight. The place was filthy. Trash was strewn about. There were no cute little electric lights hung around the streets. The State House somehow looked more neglected, despite being younger in age than the State House she was accustomed to seeing.

Kleo and Daisy’s shops both lacked their memorable signs, instead donning simple wood and metal framed signs. There was no suit-clad Neighborhood Watch, although there were thugs in road leathers nursing hangovers. The other folk she saw wandering around were mostly sick looking drifters with empty eyes and nowhere to sleep.

Scarlett pocketed her sunglasses to get a better look. Her eyes scanned the scene further and she noticed a familiar swarthy criminal approaching her. _Dammit! Not again…_

“Hey bitch! Gotta pay a fee to tour this town. Consider it insurance. 250 caps upfront or accidents will start happenin’ to ya. Big. Bloody. Accidents. Cough it up.” He gnashed out with a greasy leer. Scarlett grinned back viciously.

_Really, bitch is the best he could do? He's still using the same lines six slimy years later when I meet him? Criminals certainly lack creativity these days… No Hancock here, so if I kill him now I won’t have to deal with him later._

Scarlett’s fingers ached for a weapon.  _I’m going to enjoy this._  Just as she reached to arm herself, a hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist. Scar spun to face the captor of her limb, but was surprised to find it was John.  _How does he keep sneaking up on me like that?_ He gave her a half-hearted smile.

“Might wanna just pay the man sister. Vic doesn’t take kindly to missing his commission on the visitor’s fee. Ain’t that right Finn?” John said, maintaining a firm grip on her wrist.  _Wow, he’s helping this asshole shake me down?_

“Yeah, I’d listen to your friend. Take much longer and there might be interest to pay as well.” Finn’s leer deepened as his eyes lingered on her body.

Scarlett gritted her teeth, barely resisting her violent impulse and scathing response. Instead she jerked her wrist from John’s grasp and withdrew the necessary caps. Once she had payed Finn, she shoved past them both and headed down the street toward the Memory Den.

“Wait up Patches! We should talk.” John called out.  _Is he really gonna keep calling me that?_ Scarlett didn’t slow. He picked up his pace, reached out, and grabbed her shoulder. Scarlett shrugged easily out of his grasp again and whirled on him with a growl.

“Get your paws off me! Haven’t you helped enough?” She bit out. John seemed taken aback, but he didn’t scare easy.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that. Trust me though, if you’d killed or harmed Finn you’da been much worse off. I woulda warned you of that if you’d waited for me back in Diamond City.” John countered. Scarlett barked a harsh joyless laugh.

“You’re a piece of work… was I supposed to just wait for you to lead me here whenever you felt like showing up? Fuck you, I’m not some damsel and I don’t need help from a coward like you.” She snarled jabbing a finger into his chest. A flurry of emotions colored John’s face; genuine shock, amusement, frustration, shame, and something that looked akin to admiration.

“C’mon doll, at least lemme buy you a drink so I can apologize properly and explain why I skipped out.” He pleaded as she turned to walk away. She stopped at the word apologize… okay, and maybe a little at drink too. Her body thrummed with the energy of unspent violence meant for Finn. Scarlett took a deep breath to collect herself. A drink sounded good…

“Fine…" She begrudgingly agreed, "feel like showing me the way this time? Or should I make my own way there and meet you?” she asked turning back to him with a hand on her hip and a sarcastic smirk.

“It’d be my pleasure to lead ya if you’ll allow it.” John replied with a wry grin as he offered his arm. Scarlett eyed him suspiciously. Sure, she had accepted a helping hand in Diamond City, but she wasn’t sick now. The gentlemanly gesture seemed out of place and oddly intimate after his most recent actions.

His grin faltered momentarily upon noticing her hesitation. If it had been Hancock, she would’ve accepted immediately. John was different.  _He's trying to make amends though, the least I could do is listen._  Scarlett reluctantly slipped her arm through his. The pair walked into the Third Rail arm-in-arm. There was no Ham to greet them.

They descended the staircase and the seductively seedy atmosphere she had come to admire in the Third Rail was certainly lacking nowadays, much like the rest of Goodneighbor. No crooning Magnolia and no candles adorning the staircase. Scarlett tried not to be too critical of the place.

She was beginning to realize Hancock had really opened the door to the charm and character that she associated with the town. Not that he was solely responsible for it, but obviously it wasn’t present prior to his coup. The Third Rail was just a regular old dive bar in these times.

Whitechapel Charlie was still whirring about, tending to the bar as they approached. John released her arm and took a seat on a bar stool. Scarlett took the bar stool beside him.

“Alright, what’ll it be? I’ve got drinks to serve and counters to clean. Out with it.” the Mr. Handy unit acknowledged them with his usual cockney accent and sass.

“What’s your poison doll? I’m partial to whisky, but if you’d like a beer or something else just say the word.” John turned to Scar expectantly.

“Whisky is fine. I miss a good scotch, but I haven’t seen any in the Commonwealth wasteland.” Scarlett replied wistfully. John cocked his head at her curiously as he slid the caps across the bar. Charlie placed a bottle of amber liquid in front of them along with two glasses.

“…but you’ve seen it elsewhere?” He questioned. Scarlett busied herself with pouring a couple fingers of liquor into her glass while she thought of how to reply.

“Well, I guess technically last time was still in the Commonwealth. It’s just been longer than I care to admit.” She said vaguely. John's brow creased as he poured himself a drink as well.

“Really? You can’t be much more than 25, couldn’t have been too long ago.” John pressed, stealing a glance at her before taking a sip of his alcohol. Scarlett swirled the liquid around her glass in contemplation.

“You’d be surprised... Anyway, you mentioned something about an apology and an explanation?” She sidetracked, looking at him pointedly before taking a sip of her own beverage. Scar sighed contentedly at the familiar bitter burn. The corner of John’s mouth quirked slightly as he watched her. He shook his head before clearing his throat and taking another sip from his own glass.

“Right… I’m sorry I didn’t meet up with you the other morning. My brother confronted me about how he was running for mayor with a strictly anti-ghoul policy and asked me to support his campaign endeavors. We had a bit of a fight.” He stopped and glanced at her then with a brooding expression. Scar nodded for him to continue and John took a ragged breath before he did.

“Ghouls aren’t second class citizens, not in my book. The superiority complex him and the upper-stands folk of Diamond City have drives me crazy. I know I didn’t handle it well, but I had to get away.” He looked over at her again as he finished conveying the circumstances of his disappearance. Scarlett nodded once more. 

“Well, that’s not the worst excuse I’ve heard. I agree with your stance on ghouls, so I understand your frustration.” She said thoughtfully. John seemed to relax a bit.

“However, you could have waited for me.” She added and he bristled somewhat then.

“Sorry doll, but I wasn’t gonna spend another minute under the same roof as that asshole.” John huffed. 

"Yeah, but ya still could've let me know. You knew I was at the Dugout Inn." She chided without any real disdain. 

"It kinda slipped my mind along with time once the jet hit my system." John rubbed the back of his neck before giving a non-committal shrug. 

“Typical." Scarlett hummed before grinning and facing him.

"How ‘bout we cheers? Here’s to not waiting around for assholes who should know better!” She raised her glass. He narrowed his eyes at her and clinked their rims together.

“Ouch. I guess I deserved that, so I’ll let the jab slide this once.” John gave her a lopsided smirk and they drank from their glasses in unison.

“Okay, now why didn’t you let me gut Finn?” Scar asked as they both set their drinks down on the counter. "Is he one of Vic's goons or somethin'?"

“Vic runs this town and takes cuts from all the people runnin’ a business here. If you’d gutted Finn, he’d have lost a bit of profit. Then he would've expected you to compensate him. Also, unlike our pal Finn, Vic actually would've charged you interest.” John explained before pouring himself more whisky.

Scarlett’s head began to swim and throb.  _These headaches better not be permanent or Tom’s gonna have hell to pay when I get back._  She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to blink away the pain.

“S'ppose I should be thanking you then. For smoothing over the welcome committee and for the whisky.” She tipped her glass at him before knocking back the remainder of its contents.

"Glad we could work things out." John replied, tipping back and finishing his drink as well.

"Shit, speaking of working things out, what time is it?" Scarlett started to go for the Pip-Boy in her bag, but stopped when she remembered where she was. _How could I forget?_  John arched a shapely blonde brow at her. 

"What, you got somewhere to be? Dr. Amari only takes visitors by appointment, so you won't be gettin' an audience with her tonight." Amusement tinged John's voice. Scar made a sour face at the new information.

"I should at least go schedule a consultation then." She spoke as she rose from her bar stool. 

"Seeing the Doc ain't cheap either. Y'know with Vic's commission n' all." John elaborated, still amused. Her agitation grew as she pulled up her pack and counted her caps.

"Damn. I wasn't expecting such a steep entry fee. I should stop by Daisy's and do some trading." She said. Her head pulsed again.

"You so eager to get away from me?" John put his hand to his chest in a mock-wounded fashion.  _More like eager to get out of this time._

"I'm sure you've got plenty of other ways to entertain yourself." She teased, meeting his eyes.

"I'm quite content with my current entertainment actually." He eyed her deviously. Scarlett blushed and looked away.

"Oh please, don't you have some chems to take or women to charm somewhere?" She replied flustered. 

"Thought I was doing that already." A grin crept over his face. 

"Um, my own charms are somewhat... patchy these days. You could do better, trust me." She balked taking a step back. _This isn't supposed to happen._  John laughed and stepped forward.

"Don't sell yourself short dollface." He reached out and brushed a thumb over her scarred cheek. Scar jerked back like she'd been burned. 

"The only thing I'm selling are excess goods and ammo to Daisy." She shot back and turned to leave.  _This is getting out of hand._

"Ah, c'mon. What're you so scared of?" John frowned, raising his voice to reach her retreating form. She just shook her head and kept walking.  _Mostly scared of time paradoxes at this point._

"Thanks for the drink John." She called over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs. By the time she had gotten outside, her headache had gotten worse. Scarlett slipped her glasses on and leaned against a wall, trying to get her bearings. _I really need to go trade with Daisy._ As she started walking though, a wave of nausea hit her and stopped her in her tracks.  _Okay, maybe I should just dose myself with Med-Ex and go trade in the morning._

Scarlett stumbled her way over to the Hotel Rexford and had a short conversation with Claire. After exchanging caps for a room key, she slowly made her way upstairs. Once she was safely in her room, she collapsed on the bed.

Scar pulled a can of purified water and a Med-Ex syringe from her bag. After prepping her arm, she plunged the syringe and waited for the painkiller to hit her. She moaned in relief as the throbbing receded to a dull ache. She downed the can of water, ate some Dandy Boy Apples, and shoved her bag off the bed. Then Scar rolled over, buried her face in a pillow and passed out.


	8. To Vic Go the Spoils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language*

_As they approached the Old North Church, Scarlett’s uneasiness began to grow. Hancock’s lecture several days back on the bridge weighed heavily on her mind. On some level, she agreed with him, letting the past rest was the healthy thing to do. However, Scar hadn’t felt healthy in a long time and wasn’t sure she’d recognize it at this point this point if she did._

_No, she felt as healthy as a Chernobyl irradiated war-torn veteran with 6 shades of PTSD. Journeying through the Commonwealth and helping those in need had been a bloody path of catharsis for her, a way to live with what her life had become. Time certainly hadn't healed all wounds like everyone always claimed it would, but aiding people who deserved better had at least brought her some fulfillment._

_However, on some level, when she’d found Shaun and the Institute, the discovery began to wreak havoc on the peace of mind she'd been building up. The measure of control she had finally grasped suddenly began slipping through her fingers, much like the son she had lost 60 years prior to waking._

_“You okay doll? You’ve been staring at that raider camp for a while now.” Hancock interrupted her sullen thoughts. Scarlett nodded and slung her sniper rifle on her back._

_“Yeah, let’s skirt around these trash-divin’ junkies. We’re close enough to get inside the church without alerting them.” She said quietly. Hancock hummed in agreement. They crept around the encampment and reached their destination soundlessly._

_“Remember, you don’t gotta do this. It’s nothin’ but a masturbatory stroke to Tom’s technologically advanced ego.” Hancock spoke up from behind her._

_“True, but I’m a curious monkey… I need to know.” Scarlett answered with a chuckle._

_Hancock snorted and loyally followed as they stepped into the Railroad HQ. Scar spotted Tom in the back corner, but Deacon stepped in front of her._

_“Ehhh, time for a field trip charmer? Or you still serving detention with the class troublemaker?” Deacon jerked a thumb toward Hancock. She stepped past him grinning and shaking her head._

_“Not today Deacon, don’t you have some erasers to dust for Desdemona?” Scar approached Tinker Tom and they began speaking in hushed tones. Hancock lit up a cigarette and leaned against a brick pillar as the two discussed specifics of the experiment._

_Scarlett removed her Pip-Boy and handed it to Tom. He pulled out a screwdriver, and began fiddling with the device and turning the knobs. After entering the appropriate settings, he handed it back to her._

_“Alright, this should take you to Sanctuary exactly 10 minutes prior to your departure.” Tom excitedly explained. Scarlett nodded and gestured to Hancock that it was time to leave, but Tom reached out as she moved to go._

_“Now, don’t get any ideas! We need to do the test run first so I can iron out the kinks. It’s entirely possible the side effects will be greater the farther back you go. This is just a prototype after all.” He cautioned. Scarlett hesitated for a moment before nodding and thanking Tom for the advice._

_Scar and Hancock headed back outside. She didn’t want to travel directly from the Railroad HQ. Advertising to the whole organization that Tom was using her as his personal time traveling guinea pig just didn't seem like a good idea. Once they had exited the church, she turned to Hancock and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a weak smile._

_“I want you to know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I truly value our friendship and you’ve been kinder to me than I could’ve hoped for… I wish you the best in your leadership of Goodneighbor.” Scarlett’s eyes shimmered._

_“That sounds an awful lot like goodbye... you heard Tom’s final warning right?” Hancock’s brow creased in concern._

_“Well, I don’t truthfully know if this will work… so, it kinda is goodbye.” She took a step forward and hesitated for a moment before pulling him into a hug._

_“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. You hop back ten minutes, then you return right?” Hancock’s voice wavered slightly. Scarlett pretended not to notice. He hugged her back tightly._

_“…It’ll be like I never even left.” Her face was muffled in his shoulder. She went to pull away, but Hancock kept her pressed against him._

_“That’s kind of an ambiguous answer.” Scarlett felt his voice rumble through his chest and managed to pull back enough to look him in the eyes._

_“You’ve gotta lemme go. It’s my choice.” She disengaged herself from the embrace. Hancock shook his head with a sigh._

_“You’re free to do as you please. Doesn’t mean I have to like it… I’ve already said all I could on the matter.” His voice was tense and he stared helplessly down at his boots. Scar bit her lip and rummaged through her bag._

_“Would you give this to Preston for me? I think it’s time he took the lead.” She handed him the Minutemen General’s ensemble._

_“Whatever you say doll, as long as I can have your chem stash.” Hancock’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Scarlett returned the smile with more warmth and patted his cheek tenderly. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes as she stepped away._

_“Thanks again. For everything Hancock.” She said finally. He opened his eyes and met hers._

_“My pleasure Scarlett.” He tipped his head at her. She looked down at her Pip-Boy, flipped a nob, and was gone in a blinding flash of light._

* * *

 Scarlett woke covered in sweat. She was nauseous but her head didn’t hurt as much this morning. She drank half a can of water and nibbled on a mutfruit as she headed downstairs. She slipped on her glasses, stepped outside, and stretched in the late morning light.

Scar made her way to Daisy’s Discounts. As she approached the storefront, she noticed a particularly rugged man leaning against the State House watching her. He wore painted combat armor, worn leather pants, a five o’ clock shadow, and a permanent scowl. He flicked his cigarette away and his eyes followed her as she entered the shop to trade with Daisy.

After selling all of her excess weaponry and unnecessary ammo, she purchased some more Med-Ex and had a brief chat with Daisy.

"Hey, ya think you could return some books to the Boston Public Library for me?" Daisy had a gleam of hope in her eye that broke Scar's heart. _She's gonna have to wait six more years for me to do that._

"Maybe later Daisy, I've got a bit of work I need to get done first." Scarlett sighed and headed back out into the streets of Goodneighbor. The surly looking man was no longer leaning against the wall of the State House, but as she rounded the corner of the Third Rail she almost ran into him.

“You better watch your step around here. Might run into some trouble.” A sinister smile spread over his face as she side-stepped around him.

“’Scuse me, didn’t see you there.” She politely averted her gaze and tried to move on, but he pushed away from the wall and grabbed her upper arm in a vice-like grip.

“If you kept your head up, you might see more. You ain’t excused yet sweet cheeks.” He said gruffly. Scarlett gave him a disapproving look.

“Please, let go of my arm. I have business to attend.” She spoke evenly as she looked him dead in the eye, putting as much fire into her gaze as she could. Her eye contact only seemed to encourage his advances.

“Niceties will get you nowhere. This is my town, so your business is my business. I never dealt with your face before. I’d remember a face a like that… body makes up for it though. What’s your name?” Scar felt her skin crawl as his eyes swept over her.

“Scarlett.” She said tersely. _This must be Vic._

“Ain’t that pretty. That what your friends call you?” His sinister grin deepened, promising things she didn’t want to think about. She had no intention of being ‘friends’ with him.

“Hey Vic, I see you’ve met Scarlett.” John sauntered over and tipped his head at the town leader. “She already paid the insurance fee to Finn by the way.” Vic's smile turned to a scowl as his gaze swiveled to John. Scar wasn't sure if the smile or the scowl looked more malicious. He narrowed his eyes at John.

“Is that so? Well then, I guess I should be paying Finn a visit this morning too.” Vic released her with a shove, but she caught herself quickly.

“We’ll have to pick this up later. Seems I’ve got other business to attend.” His gaze swept over her again before he turned and walked away without looking back. John watched him go with heavy eyes before turning back to Scarlett.

“Thanks for the distraction.” She muttered, resisting the urge to rub her arm. Instead she stared daggers at Vic’s form disappearing around the corner.

“Your legs were the real distraction; apparently I should have told you not to wear shorts around here... I honestly thought your scars woulda put him off more though.” He said worriedly.

“Wow. I think you just managed to compliment and insult me in the same sentence. I refuse to cover myself up because of assholes like him.” Scarlett crossed her arms.

“Don’tchya get it? That ‘asshole’ runs this place. The leathered up thugs walkin’ around answer to him. Is there a single ounce of wariness in that body of yours?” John actually looked irritated with her, but Scar could see the fear in his eyes. _Wow, he really is scared of Vic._

“Leadership founded on fear never lasts John. Someday he’ll be swingin’ by a rope from the balcony of the State House.” She grinned smugly at him. John looked speechless for once and Scar chuckled before shaking her head. _Woopsie, too much?_

“I don’t intend to be here long anyway, so don’t worry your pretty scarless face about me.” She looked at the Memory Den. “I’m gonna go talk with Dr. Amari, maybe I’ll see ya around. Thanks again.”

“Please, be careful. If Vic heard you sayin’ somethin’ like that – “ John warned, but she cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, he’d break all my fingers and toes. I’ll do my best alright?” She tossed the crass response over her shoulder, heading toward the Memory Den.

“Patches, wait… I gotta head back to Diamond City soon. Have another drink with me before I go?” He asked hopefully. Scar stopped, turning to face him again.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” she said slowly.

“Sometimes I prefer the bad ones… why do ya think I come here?” He grinned at her mischieviously. Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat and she shook her head.

“Fine. One drink. Meet me at the Rexford later... I’ve got an appointment to schedule.” She turned on her heel and started towards the Memory Den again, mentally kicking herself. _Damn his charm! Why the Hell did I agree?_

Scarlett entered the Memory Den and was struck by how little it had changed compared to the rest of Goodneighbor. Irma lounged on a chaise in a room full of red couches and memory pods. She looked up with a catlike smirk.

“I think you’ve stepped into the wrong place sweetheart. You don’t look like you need the Memory Den. Do you even know what we do here?” Irma cooed.

“I’m well aware actually, but you’re right. I’m not here to relive the past, just looking to speak with Dr. Amari.” Scar responded.

“Dr. Amari is only available for short memory viewings today. You’re welcome to speak with her tomorrow morning if you don’t mind the wait?” Irma lifted a brow inquisitively. Scar nodded in response before verbally replying.

“Would you give her a heads up for me? I don’t wanna take her by surprise. I’m more than willing to compensate her for the time.” Irma looked at her appraisingly and mulled over the offer of caps.

“You sure you don’t have any interest in a quickie? I’ve got one open pod available from a cancellation.” Irma tempted her. Scarlett paused, thinking back on the last memory she recalled.

“Actually… I have experienced a bit of short-term memory loss recently. I’d like to visit a memory of a trip I took to Sanctuary Hills if that’s possible?” She questioned. Irma looked at her curiously. Scarlett wanted to see if there was anything she had missed in her grogginess that first day.

“I’ll see what we can do. Go ahead and sit down in the empty pod over there.” Irma pointed at a pod to her right. Scarlett took a deep breath and nodded before proceeding and settling into it. The lid closed and a screen with the familiar words ‘Please stand by’ appeared in front of her.

“Alright, Dr. Amari! We’re looking for a memory of a recent visit to Sanctuary.” Irma raised her voice, and Scarlett distantly heard Dr. Amari reply.

“Ah yes, entering the Hippocampus. I see a very strong and recent memory sync here. Making the connection now.” The room and voices around Scarlett faded away.

* * *

 She suddenly appeared in Sanctuary, although it appeared as it had after her renovations and endeavors with the Minutemen. The settlement bustled with activity and Scarlett could hear Sturges hammering away at something in the distance.

Suddenly a bright blaze of light appeared and Scarlett watched herself materialize from the flash. She appeared confused and rubbed her head before blinking several times. Then sudden joy overtook her face. She glanced down at her Pip-Boy, fiddling with the nobs animatedly. Dogmeat bounded over to greet her, knocking her down and lapping at her face. He was the only one to notice her sudden arrival since the other settlers were all occupied.

“It worked! 10 minutes back, just like Tom said! Not a single side effect either! I mean… maybe some slight confusion, but it cleared away quickly.” Scarlett watched herself in third person, puzzled briefly before it finally clicked. _I didn’t travel back 6 years immediately. I did the test run first just like Tom instructed me to… so how and when did I end up this far in the past?_

“I gotta tell Tom!” Scar watched herself stand back up, reset the dials, then disappear once again in a flare of blue light.

* * *

 The memory faded back out and Scarlett became aware of herself sitting in the pod again. The lid raised up and she was greeted by a very perplexed Irma.

“I’ve certainly never seen anything like that before…” she ponderously looked Scar over as if she’d grown another head. Scarlett felt a bit timid under her scrutiny, unsure how much she should really divulge. She opted for silence.

“That was... unique. I’d be very interested in speaking with you tomorrow if you’d still like to converse.” Dr. Amari had the glimmer of scientific intrigue sparkling in her eyes as she walked forward from the back of the room. Scar nodded emphatically.

“Do you need payment in advance? I’ve met Vic and I’d prefer if he didn’t hear about this. I’m willing to pay extra to keep the specifics between us.” Her voice was still shaky. Amari and Irma shared a look Scarlett couldn’t decipher. She was still a bit woozy from the memory pod.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Just give us… let’s go with 300 caps for now.” Dr. Amari looked back to Scar, who nodded in acknowledgment. She withdrew the caps and handed them to Irma.

“Looking forward to speaking with you tomorrow.” Dr. Amari headed into the back of the room once more to deal with another client. Scarlett thanked Irma and promptly exited the building. She was surprised to find it had been almost an hour since she’d entered the Memory Den.

Scar walked next door to the Rexford and decided to take a much needed nap. Reliving the memory had been a surprisingly taxing experience. Once she was inside her room she removed her glasses, rolled onto her bed, and surrendered to sleep. For the first time since she’d time traveled, she didn’t dream in memories.


	9. Sharks and Slip Ups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language, Violence, Drug Use*

Scarlett woke an hour later and rose from bed with a yawn. After detangling her locks with a scavenged hairbrush, she sat back down on the bed and popped a can of potato chips. Her stomach was calm and the headache that frequently plagued her, although present, was nothing more than a distant pulse. _I might be able to get back to the present soon too._

Sharp rapping at the door had Scarlett tensing up, back straight and eyes fixed on the door. Her brows knitted. She stood to answer, but hesitated and worried her bottom lip. _I can’t have another drink with John, I’ll have to make up some excuse… it’s just not right._ A commotion in the hall outside piqued her interest.

Scar opened the door, a flurry of terrible excuses running through her head. There was no one there. She poked her head out and looked down the hallway. A few of Vic’s leather-clad cronies were going door-to-door banging loudly.

“GET YOUR ASSES OUTSIDE! VIC’S GOT A MESSAGE FOR EVERYONE. HURRY UP!” The head of the group bellowed through the halls and continued pounding on doors. _I wonder what Vic wants? Maybe he has an inspiring speech telling kids to stay on drugs and outta school... Not that there are many schools left in the Commonwealth..._

Scarlett grabbed her rucksack and headed out. The rebellious side of her wanted to ignore Vic’s town meeting, but she was inescapably curious. She also had to admit John was right about her needing to proceed more cautiously, and attending Vic’s gathering seemed a good way to avoid his ire.

She walked out the doors of the Rexford and pushed her way through the throng of people. The crowd had formed a lopsided circle around the main attraction. She broached the inner edge of the group and her stomach plummeted.

Vic was standing center stage with a few of his thugs. He had a bruising grip on the shoulder of a kneeling man who trembled with his head bowed. A sobbing woman had been bound with chains to a streetlight within the circle as well. Although no weapons were being used yet, the thugs all loosely held various blunt objects.

Mostly baseball bats, tire irons, and leadpipes. A pair of brass knuckles glinted in the light on the curled fingers of one thug. _This is going to be bad._ Once it seemed people had stopped trickling into the street, Vic looked around his audience with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Glad you all could make it.” He gestured in a sweeping motion, his trademark malicious smile creeping over his face.

“Now, let’s begin shall we?” He walked in a circle around the drifter like a shark circling its prey.

“Lately, I’ve had to up the enforcement of my… tax policy.” He growled out and came to a stop behind the man.

“So let me clarify for y’all.” His hand darted out and yanked the drifter by his hair. To his credit, the man didn’t cry out. He did flinch when Vic roughly tightened his grip into a fist though.

“These two,” Vic gestured toward the woman, then gave his fisted hand a harsh shake, “tried to deal chems here without paying taxes.”  The man in his grip whimpered.

Vic gave the drifter a forceful shove. He barely managed to catch himself before his face hit the pavement. The woman bound to the streetlight cried out pitifully. Her shoulders shook.

“Now,” Vic began to circle the man again, “it seems there’s some confusion about what happens when you fall behind on your taxes.” The drifter moved to sit back up. Vic savagely stomped his boot between his shoulder blades. The man’s face hit the ground with a muffled crack. He spat blood and groaned brokenly.

“So, let this serve as a warning to ALL of you…” Vic pulled his boot away with a sneer and whistled sharply. He nodded his head towards the man and a couple of Vic’s goons approached him. One leather-clad crony had a sadistic smile and began patting a rhythm in his hand with a tire iron.

“Vic please! We’ll p-pay ya double next time! Just let us g-go!” The woman raggedly cried out. Vic stalked over and backhanded her. The man with the knuckles stood beside him watching patiently.

“Rough ‘em up boys. Don’t kill ‘em. If it happens one more time, we’ll beat ‘em to nothing but pulp.” Vic spat the last part at the woman. His goons stepped up to the man and he closed his eyes defeatedly. _Is this really happening? No one is going to do anything?_

Scarlett cast a distressed glance around her. Most of the surrounding people had shrunk back from the scene slightly or stood by looking ashamed. No one stepped forward. Scar noticed John close by. He stood rigidly and didn’t seem to notice her.

Vic snapped his fingers and the man with the knuckles threw an upward swing into the woman’s gut. She didn’t cry out this time. Scarlett guessed it was likely because the wind had been knocked out of her. The next punch connected with her cheek.

The man with the tire iron kicked the drifter on the ground with a laugh and a barbed bat connected with his rib cage next. Scar winced and took an involuntary step back when more blows landed freely on the helpless man and woman.

 _I can’t watch this._ She was about to turn and leave when she saw John still staring at the scene. His jaw was clenched tight, as were his fists. His eyes were filled with fiery anguish and glued to the beating before them. The other folk around them began to drift away from the scene, unable to watch and unwilling to risk challenging it. John watched the whole things as if he wanted to remember it.

Vic walked away and into the State House with a barbaric chuckle, not even bothering to watch the whole ordeal himself. The goons stopped their attack shortly after he'd left. The one with the now bloodied tire iron spit on the man before walking away. Scarlett watched John wait and approach them once Vic’s dogs were gone.

He spoke quietly before handing the man on the ground 2 stimpaks and a Med-Ex syringe. It had struck her as odd that he'd watched so fervently, but now she thought it may have been to catalog their injuries. Maybe even out of anger at Vic and respect for the folk taking the beating. Scarlett smiled sadly and walked off to Daisy’s shop before he could spot her. _That’s a good idea…_

She walked into the shop to find Daisy wiping the counters slowly with a sullen frown, her cheery demeanor soiled by Vic's show. Scar purchased 2 more syringes of Med-Ex, a stimpak, a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of whisky. She poked her head around the corner to make sure John had left before approaching the man and woman.

The man was standing now and in the process of releasing the woman from her restraints. Unfortunately, his hands were too banged up to do much more than fumble with the bobbypin and lock.

“Here, take these… you’ll need them for her.” Scarlett handed him the Med-Ex, the stimpak, and the bottle of vodka for disinfectant.

“I can pick that for you, then you can be on your way.” The man accepted the items. It looked like his eyes were tearing up, but it was hard to tell between the blood and swelling. Scar quickly picked the lock and helped him get the woman released from the streetlight. Scarlett held her up while he injected her with the stimpak, then passed her off to him.

“Thank you for helping us… what’s your name?” He asked. Scar shook her head meagerly. _It's the least I could do..._

“Call me Scar. You two take care of yourselves and make sure you pay Vic next time.” She went to pat the man on the arm and decided against it upon remembering the severity of his wounds. He just smiled weakly at her and nodded. _Now I need a drink._

Scarlett looked toward the Rexford and frowned. _If I drink in my room, I’ll likely end up having to speak with John… the Third Rail has a similar likelihood and an even less pleasant atmosphere as of late._ She chewed her lip in thought before heading toward the closest alleyway.

She crinkled her nose as the smell of old piss and vomit assaulted her nostrils. _Ew… Not even alcohol can cover that up. I can’t drink here._ She cast her eyes around the alleyway before looking up. Her brow rose along with her gaze. She walked to the end of the alley where the dumpster was and swung the lid down. Scar climbed on top of it and hoisted herself up on the roof of the building.

 _Well, the smell certainly isn’t as bad._ Scarlett walked further along the ledge before kicking an empty Jet canister that was sitting next to an empty tin of Mentats. She found a relatively clean spot and settled down with her legs dangling.

Scar pulled out her bottle of whisky and lit up a cigarette. She leaned back and looked up at the stars as she took a pull from the bottle. The booze burned down her throat like liquid fire. She didn’t mind. It gave her something else to focus on besides the grisly beating.

She tried to spot the constellations and found it was actually easier now. Less cars, less people, less civilization also meant less pollution. She smiled as she smoked her cigarette. _OH! You know what would be nice? Music._

Scarlett pulled out her holotapes and shuffled through them before inserting one into her Pip-Boy with a dry laugh. _This seems like a fitting song for Goodneighbor._ The music started and she bobbed her head from side to side as Bobby Darin crooned.

_“Oh the shark babe - has such teeth dear,_

_And it shows them - pearly white._

_Just a jackknife, has old MacHeath babe,_

_And he keeps it-uhh, outta sight._

_Ya know when that shark bites - with his teeth, babe_

_Scarlet billows - start to spread._

_Fancy gloves ohh, wears old MacHeath babe,_

_So there’s never, never a trace of red.”_

Scarlett hummed along with her head still bobbing to the music. She idly swung her feet and dragged on her cigarette. A small noise sounded from the alleyway. She paused the tune, but there was no movement down below when she scanned for the source of it.

She shrugged and took another small swig from her bottle. _Maybe it’s just rats… Wait, rats… like Rad rats? That doesn’t make sense… they’d be huge, like mole rats. Rodents of unusual size!_ She snickered and hit play again.

_“Now on the sidewalk - huh, huh,_

_Whooo, sunny morning uh huh,_

_Lies a body - just-uh oozing life._

_Eeek!_

_And someone’s sneakin’, ‘round the corner,_

_Could that someone, be Mack the Knife?”_

“Actually, it’s just John…” Scarlett jumped with a surprised squeak. She frantically ejected the holotape and buried it in her bag, losing her cigarette in the process. John smirked and arched a brow at her.

“…and it’s a rooftop, not a corner.” He jested. Scarlett just scowled at him and crossed her arms.

“Kind of a morbid song isn’t it?” He walked towards her, unfazed by her glare.

“Actually, it’s a classic and it originated from a German opera.” Scarlett sighed.

“But, you’re right. It is somewhat morbid…” She conceded, “Although, In light of recent events…” She trailed off with a crestfallen shrug and took another pull from her bottle. John sat down beside her on the right.

“Never thought I’d hear you make a noise like that though.” He nudged her shoulder with his own.

“And you never will again! What’re you creepin’ around for anyway?” The irritation at being caught was evident in her voice. John chuckled and snatched her bottle. She didn’t protest.

“I was s’pposed to meet someone for a drink, but she bailed on me.” He tipped the bottle in her direction before taking a pull from it. Scarlett looked down and rubbed her shoulder guiltily.

“Sorry I didn’t meet you at the Rexford...” She muttered, “…still got to have that drink at least.”

“Yeah, yeah… I guess we’re even now.” John waved her off and pulled out a tin of Mentats. He popped a couple before offering them to her as well. Scar shook her head and he pocketed the tin again.

“How’d you find me anyway?” She looked up to find him watching her then.

“This is actually my spot when I wanna hide from Goodneighbor. Particularly when I ain’t ready to go back to Diamond Shitty. Well, technically right over there.” John pointed roughly to where she had found the Jet canister and Mentats tin earlier.

“Ah, so I shoulda found a better spot.” She replied before she could think better of it. John looked a little hurt.

“What’s up with you lately? …and where’d you get that?” He poked the Pip-Boy on her arm. Scarlett pulled her arm away and took off her Pip-Boy. _Too late to hide it now._ She put it away in her bag anyway and fumbled for words silently. John just stared at her suspiciously.

“C’mon Patches, you gotta gimme something,” his brow furrowed, “the only people I’ve seen with those are vault dwellers…”

“Well… you caught me! I’m a vaultie.” Scarlett hoped he’d drop the subject but he just stared at her patiently and lit a cigarette. She tried not to squirm, but failed spectacularly.

“That’s all you’re gonna give me? Where’d you get the holotapes then?” He took a drag of smoke and watched her as if her face would give her away. Which it kind of did. John had a knack for reading people and could tell she was hiding something.

“I found them.” Scarlett picked at her fingernails, avoiding his gaze. _Yeah, found them right where I left them._

“Uh-huh… so where did you find them?” The glow of his cigarette briefly illuminated his narrowed eyes.

“In an abandoned house.” She replied. _It’s still the truth… we did abandon the house to join the vault._ John watched her continue to fidget a bit more before he reached out and grabbed one of her hands to stop her. Scarlett stilled and her eyes dropped to his hand holding her own.

They sat in awkward silence. He’d picked up on her tendency to get skittish around personal details and with the 'tats in his system, some of her comments had struck him as being particularly odd. However, this was the most John had gotten Scar to open up since Diamond City and he was more than a little curious.

“Y’know, not a lotta folk have heard of Germany these days… let alone operas. Part of your vault studies?” He asked quietly.

“No, but I love to read.” She offered cautiously, chancing a look at him. He was studying her. Scar’s heartbeat picked up a bit at the intensity of his gaze. _Shit, he knows something’s off._

“Yeah me too...It’s a good way to let the world slip.” Scar hummed in acknowledgement. Then her brow creased as she fully processed what he said. She looked at him in shock.

“Wait, did you just…?” Her lips twisted into a smile and she cocked her head. “You’ve read Shakespeare?! Goodness, you’re full of surprises.”

“The book I found wasn’t fully intact and I didn’t always get his jokes, but when I did I loved ‘em.” John smiled back impishly.

 “So, you fancy yourself Sly eh?” Scarlett asked playfully.

“Heh, I see what you did there. I certainly wouldn’t mind taming a certain shrew.” John waggled his brows at her suggestively and Scarlett gave a delighted laugh.

“There you go complimenting and insulting me in the same sentence again.” She was the one to nudge his shoulder this time and John grinned back heartily. They shared another silence, still holding hands, and it was considerably less tense than it was before. John took a deep breath and decided to risk prodding further.

“So… the event that caused the scarring… was it a vault experiment?” He questioned softly. His thumb rubbed soothingly over her knuckles. Scar wanted to be angry. It’d be easier to duck his question then, but she felt an entirely different emotion when she met his eyes again. _No one has been this gentle towards me since… well, since Hancock._

“No… It’s kind of a sensitive subject. Why do you care anyway?” She pulled her hand away and ignored the pang she felt at doing so. She grabbed the whisky back to keep her hands busy.

“Why wouldn’t I? I care about all my friends. Hell I care about people in general.” He snuffed out his cigarette.

“I know you do… I saw what you did for those drifters tonight. Inspired me to lend a hand as well.” She tactfully changed the subject.

“Ah, so that’s how she got down from the lightpost so fast. Shouldn’t have done that. Vic might’ve seen you from the State House… that’s why I just left the guy with stimpaks to take care of it himself.” John reproached.

“I’m not sure he would’ve been able to get her down tonight. Even with the stimpaks.” Scar frowned at him.

“Yeah, that’s exactly why Vic chained her up. He does that every once in a while, so the folk of Goodneighbor see his handiwork.” John explained.

“Wasn’t much of his hands doing the work.” She scoffed back.

“Maybe not directly, but he holds the leash to his dogs and he’s got ‘em well trained. Makes no difference how he gets it done, it still happens.” John’s voice was laced with dejection.

“If it bugs you so much, why don’t you do something about it?” Scar challenged. John looked at her in disbelief and laughed bitterly.

“Me? Charisma only goes so far doll. I can’t take on Vic’s pack of mongrels by myself.” John answered with creased brows.

“Who said anything about doing it alone? It’s easy to see this town disapproves of his leadership. I doubt it would be difficult to rally a coup.” Scar hinted. John was quiet and pulled a Jet inhaler from his pocket.  He spun it around in his hand absently before giving it a few shakes.

“It’s not a bad idea… I just don’t think I’m cut out for the job.” He lifted the red canister to his mouth, compressed it, and inhaled deeply.

“If not you, then who? …ever heard the phrase ‘be the change you want to see in the world’?” She pushed. John’s shoulders shook as he coughed a laugh on the exhale of his Jet hit.

“Look, this pep-talk you’re giving me? Real sweet, but not everyone is as charmed by my winning personality as you Patches. Most folk just see me as a womanizing junkie.” Scarlett rolled her eyes.  

 “I never said you weren’t a womanizing junkie,” she knocked his dangling boot with her own, “but I’ll bet those drifters you just helped see you as something more.”

“Now who’s doing the complimenting and insulting in the same sentence?” He remarked sarcastically and knocked her boot back.

“Besides, two drifters is hardly enough backup to start a coup.”  He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh and downcast eyes.

Scarlett stared at him in fascination. _He’s actually considering what I’m saying._ She’d never seen anyone look older and younger at the same time until now. John seemed frustrated and wearied by his circumstances, but simultaneously insecure about his ability to change them. She wanted to reassure him, but she knew she’d already said too much.

“Gotta start somewhere.” Scarlett said simply. He looked up and his eyes softened when they met hers.  She looked away and cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“Well, it’s good to know I’d have your vote.” He reached out and pinched her cheek. _If only he knew how right he is._ Scar scrunched her nose and swatted at him. He laughed and narrowly avoided her hand by snatching her wrist.

“Hey!” Scarlett tried to jerk her hand away, but he anticipated it and playfully tightened his grip. She was still stronger than he expected though. Scar accidentally ended up pulling him closer to herself. Close enough to feel his breath on her face and smell the tang of Jet he’d huffed. She suddenly became overwhelmed by his proximity to her.

“John, please let go.” Her voice was sharp. John hesitated as his eyes swept over her face, confused by her sudden change in attitude. He released her and mumbled an apology. Scarlett’s wrist tingled where he’d grabbed it, and not in pain. She tried to rub the sensation away and tried to forget the feel of his breath ghosting over her skin.

“I…I should get going.” She stammered out and stood.

“Oh c’mon, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ll back off if I’m buggin’ you.” Scar could hear the disappointment in his voice.

“I’m not scared I’m…” Her mind raced and defensively grasped for an excuse.

“I’m meeting Dr. Amari tomorrow morning.” She finally supplied.

“So, is it past your bedtime? I could tuck you in and read you a story.” John arched a brow at her shamelessly and rose to his feet as well.

“Very funny.” Scarlett crossed her arms and hoped he couldn’t see her blushing in the dark.

“Doesn’t have to just be a joke.” He smirked.

“John…” she spoke warningly.

“Alright, alright. Just a joke.” He waved his hands around dismissively.

“I’m headin’ back to Diamond City tomorrow anyway. Gotta make sure my dumbshit brother hasn’t already destroyed it.” John attempted to sound lighthearted, but Scarlett caught the edge in his voice. She knew how serious things were going to get, and John was no simpleton. It was only a matter of time before he realized the true severity of his brother’s actions.

“Well, in case I don’t see you again.” She stepped forward and surprised herself by pulling him in for a hug.

“Safe travels, and good luck with your brother.” Scarlett knew he’d hear the concern in her voice, but didn’t care. John squeezed her back. She thought she felt him take a shuddering breath and nuzzle her shoulder briefly, but it was over so fast she couldn’t be sure. Or maybe she was. She didn’t want to think about it too much.

“You take care of yourself Patches. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” John turned away from her and hopped down from the rooftop with catlike grace.

“Whatever you say John.” Scarlett said more to herself than him. She shook her head and made her way back to the Rexford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Let the world slip." Is directly from Shakepeare's play The Taming of The Shrew. The original quote means something along the lines of letting the world pass by or finding an escape from the world. The line is spoken by the character Christopher Sly (a drunkard), hence Scarlett's reply. A shrew is a spirited woman, often aggressively so.
> 
> Also, for those interested in the song Scarlett plays, it's called Mack the Knife by Bobby Darin.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEllHMWkXEU


	10. One Chip Forward, Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language, Graphic Violence, Drug Use*

Scarlett woke in the morning with flutterings. She tried to convince herself to eat, but couldn’t stomach anything over her excitement about seeing Dr. Amari. She settled for downing some purified water before slipping on her shades and heading out of the Rexford.

Scar hesitated in front of the Memory Den and took a deep breath before entering. She waved at Irma when she came into the main room and removed her sunglasses. She paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the low light. Irma smiled and pointed to stairs that lead down to the back room.

Scarlett bobbed her head once and proceeded. Dr. Amari stood with her back to the doorway, typing at a computer console. She stopped upon hearing Scar’s approach.

“Ah, I was hoping you hadn’t changed your mind.” Amari turned to face her. Scarlett gave her a strained smile.

“Is there somewhere private we can talk?” She asked with a worried glance at the doorway she’d just come though.

“You’re safe here.” Scar chewed her lip for a moment before inhaling sharply.

“Okay… are you – are you with the Railroad?” She asked uncertainly. Dr. Amari blinked at her a couple times in surprise.

“No… I’m not opposed to synths though.” She hesitated before continuing. “…Are you a synth?”

“No! No, nothing like that…” Scar waved her hands about, “I’m just somewhat affiliated with the Railroad myself. It would have been convenient if you were as well. Too good to be true though.”

“Vic has a policy to kill synths on sight. Having such a connection while maintaining a business here in Goodneighbor would be a death sentence. Not just for synths, but for me as well.” She explained. Scarlett nodded with a frown. _Yeah Nick mentioned that too._

“Makes sense. Wishful thinking required me to ask.” She said with a shrug. A moment of silence passed between the two and Dr. Amari crossed her arms.

“What else is going on here?” Her tone was authoritative. Scar removed the Pip-Boy from her bag. Her hands roamed the device contemplatively, feeling its weightiness. She gave a thoughtful sigh and held it out to the doctor. Amari lifted her brows and took the pro-offered tech.

“I was working with the railroad on a chip. Theoretically, it was supposed to allow the user to time travel. It was installed in the Pip-Boy you’re holding.” Dr. Amari’s eye widened. She looked from Scarlett to the Pip-Boy in her hands, then back to Scarlett.

“Well, that would certainly explain the strange memory you viewed yesterday… and why there was such a strong emotional response that allowed you to access it.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, the chip worked perfectly that time. I had no idea it would when I tried it, so you can imagine my surprise.” Scarlett shifted feet.

“So what do you want me to do with it? I’m assuming this isn’t a social call… you didn’t share this simply because you felt like doing so.” Dr. Amari examined her searchingly. _Yeah, not here to share gossip and braid each other’s hair._

“Well… I used it again after that, but something went wrong. I ended up six years in the past with a slew of nasty side effects. I’ve been stuck here ever since, trying to figure out how to recalibrate the date settings so I can return. I was hoping you could help me do that…” Scarlett trailed off. Amari looked her over again appraisingly, her eyes lingering on the newly acquired scar tissue.

“So, you’re from the future…” Dr. Amari shook her head, “I’ll do what I can to help you, but my specialty is neuroscience. No guarantees I’ll be able to do what you’re asking.” Scarlett nodded and Dr. Amari began examining the Pip-Boy.

“I’m willing to pay well for your assistance… and your silence. I don’t know what Vic would do if he found out.” Scarlett wrung her hands, but had a hopeful glint in her eye.

“Give me at least a day to look this over, maybe two. I’ll keep your secret, but I still need to tend to my other clients if we wish to avoid drawing Vic’s attention. The Memory Den is one of his more profitable… business ventures. He’d notice if I shut down for a day.” Dr. Amari withdrew a cloth from her lab coat and wrapped it around the Pip-Boy. She then walked to a desk and stowed the bundle away in a safe underneath it.

“Thank you. I really appreciate your willingness to help me. How much do I owe you?” Scarlett pulled her sack of caps from her bag.

“I’m a scientist, I would never pass up an opportunity like this. I still have the 300 caps you gave me yesterday… another 300 caps and we’ll call it even. Then if Vic comes in, I can tell him you received a memory viewing.” Dr. Amari took her caps.

“Now, I really must get back to work. Come back in a day or two and I let you know if I’ve made any progress.” The doctor concluded. Scarlett hummed her approval, dipped her head at Amari, and waved goodbye as she left the room.

Scar slipped her sunglasses back on and exited the Memory Den, glancing around. Her lip curled when she noticed the blood still staining the street from the events of the previous evening.

When she looked up, she noticed two of Vic’s thugs leaning against the wall of the Third Rail. The thug on the left nudged the other one and nodded in her direction. _That’s odd._ They eyed her menacingly from around their cigarettes.

 _Don’t blow a raspberry at them, don’t blow a raspberry at them!_ Instead Scarlett turned and headed back into the Hotel Rexford. Once inside her room, she was at a loss of what to do with herself. She repacked her bag, washed her face, and brushed her hair. _I wish I had brought a good book with me… what the hell am I supposed to do for a couple days while I wait for Dr. Amari?_

Scarlett finally decided to go out and do some scavenging in the surrounding ruins. She grabbed her bag and headed out into the streets of Goodneighbor once again. The two thugs were no longer leaning against the wall of the Third Rail. _Good riddance._ However, when Scar turned the corner, heading past Kill or Be Killed and Daisy’s Discounts, the hair on the back of her neck rose. She knew someone was watching her, but didn't want to risk discovering the source.

She ignored it, pushing through the heavy doors to exit town and headed out into the surrounding city. Zigzagging through the streets, Scarlett dodged some battles and initiated others. Killing mongrels was like shooting fish in a barrel, but when it came to Super Mutant camps, she preferred to hike her way up to a good vantage point. Which was what she was doing now.

Scar had just reached the top of a staircase in a three story building when she heard hushed voices downstairs. She stopped and listened intently. From the echoes, it sounded like at least two or three men. _Maybe raiders._

She heard their footsteps moving up the first set of stairs to the second floor. They were still having a quiet conversation and Scarlett strained to catch some of it. “C’mon… bitch… somewhere… Boss said…” Scarlett frowned and set a mine at the top of the staircase. She inched towards a desk at the back of the room.

Unfortunately, as she got within a foot of it her boot knocked a can into a file cabinet. She winced and froze when the pinging sound of metal bounced around the walls of the building. The voices one level down had gone silent. _Goddammit._ Suddenly she heard boots advancing up the staircase. She scurried the remaining distance to the desk and tucked herself behind it.

“…handcuffs ready.” A hoarse whisper neared the top of the stairs. Scarlett extracted a frag grenade from her bag, pulled the pin from it, and kept the lever compressed as she waited.

“FUCK!” One of the men shouted and the quiet beeps of the mine could be heard. She braced herself against the desk.

“GET B-“ The explosion drowned out his warning and debris flew around the room. Scarlett rolled the grenade towards the staircase and braced for the second boom. The room shook again and Scar switched to her shotgun.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT THE BOSS SAID, YOU’RE DEAD NOW.” One of the thugs seethed. She tightened her grip on the gun and poked her head around the desk just in time to see a leathered-up man with a metal chest piece reach the top of the stairs. His boots were hidden behind the body of his dead comrade.

He scanned the room, but by the time he’d caught sight of her, she had already fired two quick shots. The first shot knocked him backwards, but his chest-plate absorbed most of the blow. The second shot blew his arm off. He staggered and shrieked in pain, but didn’t go down. He shakily raised his gun and Scarlett ducked behind the desk just as a barrage of bullets flew towards her. Most of them lodged in the desk, but one grazed her arm and hit the wall behind her

She cursed silently and reloaded. Scar swung back around the desk and fired at him again. The shot dropped him and the room became deafeningly silent. The quiet whines and whimpers of the third man downstairs indicated he was crippled or seriously maimed.

Scarlett crept down the stairs to find the wounded man at the bottom of it. When he saw her, he began crawling towards his gun. Scar bolted towards the gun and grabbed it before he could.

“Go on an’ kill me already you fucking cunt!” He gnashed out at her with a mouth full of blood. His left leg was splintered at his shin and a large hunk of metal debris protruded from his chest. He would bleed out within the next 15 minutes, but it’d be hell until then. She stalked forward, crouched down, and grabbed him by his shirt. He cried out. _Easy Scarlett! Just get the information and let him die in peace…_

“Kiss your boss with that mouth?” She jammed her gun barrel up under his chin, “Tell me who he is and you won’t have to suffer.” She had some inklings, but wanted to be sure.

“Fuck you! I’m already dead…” He spat blood in her face. Scarlett cringed and wiped it away. _You’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar_. She thought for a moment and pulled out some Psycho and Med-Ex syringes.

“Tell me, and it won’t have to hurt so badly.” She waved the syringes in front of his face and his eyes followed them longingly.

“Vic sent us out here to c-collect you.” His laugh gurgled up his throat. Scar prepped the Psycho and jammed it in his leg harshly. He winced, but his face lit up a bit more.

“Why? What does he want?” She gave him a little shake when he started to close his eyes.

“You released the drifter – he saw. Plus, he knows you been,” He coughed wetly, “ – been seeing the Doc. He wants his caps.” She prepped the syringe.

 “He’s gonna pay her a visit tomorrow too.” His breathing had become shallow. Scarlett jabbed him with the needle.

“Ahhh, that’s the stuff…” his face went slack and his shaking lessened after a moment.

“Is that all?” Scarlett asked. He didn’t respond, just let out a ragged exhale and went still. She shook him and felt for a pulse. Nothing. He was limp in her arms and she set him down gently with shaking hands. _Please don’t puke…_ She stumbled to a wall and leaned against it.

Her face contorted and tears slid down her right cheek. _He was going to die anyway, there was nothing you could’ve done... and who knows what would've happened if they had succeeded in their capture! Now they’re gonna hurt Dr. Amari, simply for helping me_... Scarlett dragged herself away from the wall and looked out at the impending twilight. _I need to go back to Goodneighbor. I have to do something._


	11. Surprises and Disguises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity and Violence*

Scarlett promptly began heading back toward Goodneighbor. Luckily, the way was still clear from her initial trail. Thoughts and emotions slowly flooded her brain as she drew closer to her destination; anger at Vic for his actions, concern for her Pip-Boy and the implications if he were to find it. Most of all though, she felt guilt for recklessly endangering her friends. And for what? So she could return to a time she had been trying to escape?

Her feet carried her thoughtlessly forward, but she came to a standstill suddenly. _If Dr. Amari does get injured, or dies in the past… I might not find Virgil in the future. Shaun would live out the rest of his cancer-ridden days as its leader and I won’t be responsible for all the lives snuffed out at the destruction of the Institute._

Her thoughts plagued her. She knew where she was headed currently, but had no idea where her journey would ultimately lead her. She wasn’t even certain what she wanted anymore. _Stupid fucking time paradoxes, making me questions my morals…_

She gave the dirt a futile kick and sighed morosely before continuing onward. _Either way, I can’t leave Dr. Amari to Vic’s whims… I may be selfish, but I can’t allow that and live with myself. Living with myself has been hard enough already…_

The first fingers of dawn were stretching up from the horizon by the time she reached the edge of Goodneighbor. She stood in front of the rusted door, shifting from foot to foot _. They’ll catch me as soon as I walk through the entrance._ Small puffs of dust rose from her boot as she tapped it in thought.

Scar cocked her head before backpedaling to a small building where she had slain a few raiders. Normally their weaponry, caps, and ammo were the only items of interest to her. Now she had a different prize in mind as she pulled up a body and began stripping it. _Sorry, but you won’t be needing these!_ She gathered a sack hood with hoses, jeans, and a flannel.

She was about to start changing when her stomach grumbled. _Shit, I haven’t eaten in hours. I should re-fuel before hitting the town._ Scarlett dropped her bag on a pool table in the center of the room and pulled out some Blamco Mac n’ Cheese. She made a small fire, heated the food, and scarfed it down mirthlessly.

She proceeded to stomp the fire out as quickly and quietly as possible, hoping it hadn’t drawn any attention. She was pleased when her ears were met with silence upon finishing. Scarlett huddled into a corner and pulled on her newly acquired jeans. She was in the process of re-buttoning the flannel when she heard a noise outside. _Fuck… I knew the fire was a bad idea._

Voices had her dropping to a crouch behind a counter at the back of the room. _More of Vic’s goons?_ She focused intently on the hushed tones and heard them walk past the doors. She waited to make sure they had gone, but to her dismay they circled back. She grabbed her shotgun.

“These… cleared… should be… raiders.” The words barely drifted to her ears and something about the voice raised red flags in her brain. She couldn’t put her finger on why though. Two pairs of boots crunched on glass as they stepped over the threshold of the building she was in. These guys were more skilled at sneaking though. She should have been able to hear them better for how close they were.

A trickle of sweat slid down her temple. Her grip tightened on her gun. She was on the first floor. There was no time to prepare any explosives without being seen or heard. Scarlett held her breath as they walked further into the building. She was having a hard time pinpointing exactly where they were in the room.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” A coarse voice rasped. Scarlett’s brows pulled down. _Ghoul? I didn’t think Vic had any ghoul thugs. Maybe they actually are raiders this time… Come to think of it, have I seen any ghoul raiders either?_

“Shhh… ” The sound of footsteps had stopped. Scarlett’s heartbeat picked up when she spotted a gun barrel poking at the remnants of her fire. The barrel withdrew from her sight and she silently took a deep, controlled breath. Metal on metal sounds could be heard. One of the intruders was loading a clip into their gun. _Only one chance to do this…_ Scarlett whorled around the corner, swinging her gun up to aim.

“DROP!” One of the men shouted and pushed the other down and out of the way. Scar’s shot rang out. They hurriedly clambered across the floor, using the pool table as paltry cover. Scar crouched further to get a shot in underneath it. She moved to align her barrel and the pair upended a table for cover. They were both behind it before she could fire again. She wasn’t sure if she had hit either of them with her first shot, but from the speed of their movements she guessed she hadn’t.

“Don’t shoot!” Scarlett surprisingly didn’t. She froze. The reds flags in her brain were waving rigorously. _I know that voice…_

“…John?” She said waveringly. An odd silence settled over the room. Scarlett was still frozen in place, staring down the barrel of her gun.

“You… know who that is?” The ghoul questioned his comrade. John poked his head around the table timidly and Scarlett’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“You scared the shit out of me.” She lowered her gun and exhaled a breath she'd forgotten she was holding.

“Your shotgun is pretty scary too doll. Is that how you greet strangers?” John rose from behind the table. His ghoul companion did as well, although with much more reluctance.

“I’m sorry. Thought you were a couple of Vic’s dogs. A few of them attacked me earlier.” Scarlett guiltily rubbed at the arm loosely holding her shotgun. Adrenaline was still surging through her and she took a chest-heaving breath in an attempt to calm herself. The movement drew John’s gaze and a small smile tugged the corner of his lips.

“Yeah… looks like we caught you by surprise… uh, you might wanna…” He gestured at her vaguely. His ghoul friend had averted his eyes and Scar looked down to find her top was only buttoned halfway. _GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT… at least I’m wearing a bra._

Scar spun around with a groan. She had completely forgotten her state of undress when she’d been interrupted by their stealthy motions. Now she began re-buttoning the flannel with fast, jerking flicks of her fingers and wrists.

“What the hell are you doing here anyway?! I thought you were supposed to be in Diamond City!” Her voice had a flustered edge to it when she turned back around, completely pink in the face. This only widened John’s smile.

“I was but…” His grin faltered when he paused and turned his head to look at his friend. The ghoul gave him an admonitory look and crossed his arms. John cleared his throat. A look of shame slowly shaded his features.

“Unfortunately it seems the upper-stands folk are warming up to my brother’s fucked up mayoral decree. I came out here with my pal Weissman,” John clapped his accompaniment on the shoulder, “to scope out some temporary lodgings if things go south.”

“Wait… Weissman? That name…” Scarlett paused and her eyes scanned him before it clicked. The ghoul tilted his head sideways at her scrutiny.

“Yeah, surprised you pronounced it correctly. It’s an old family name… most folk just call me Wiseman.” Scarlett coughed to keep from laughing. _Of course John knows Wiseman. That’s why his comments made Hancock uncomfortable whenever we went to the Slog._

“Pleased to meet you, although I’m sorry Diamond City may be taking a turn for the worse… I cleared most of these buildings earlier, so they should be fine for a short while. Hope it helps.” Scarlett dropped her eyes and shouldered her pack. “I gotta get back to Goodneighbor to check on Dr. Amari.”

She moved to brush past them. Weissman stepped aside, but John didn’t. He reached out and gently grasped her hand, pulling her to a stop.

“Patches… was Dr. Amari able to help you?” His thumb ran over her knuckles again, much like the other night. Scar felt that aching weight in her chest again. Weissman looked between the two of them knowingly before shaking his head and going upstairs.

“I…don’t know. I spoke with her and was supposed to return, but Vic may have gotten there first.” Scarlett swallowed thickly and closed her eyes.

“I really need to get going.” She lifted the sack with hoses over her head using her other hand. John’s eyes scanned her critically, taking in her disguise. He opened his mouth to speak, but Weissman yelled from the second floor.

“John, this spot will do well as a temporary shelter! We could fortify the first floor a bit and fix some beds up here.” John’s gaze darted upwards and Scar hesitated briefly before withdrawing her hand from his. Her movement drew his gaze back. His forehead creased with concern and he frowned.

“If you need help – “ John started, but Scarlett cut him off.

“You can’t protect me from him, you said it yourself at Power Noodles remember? Besides, Weissman truly needs your help. What you’re doing… it’s important.” Her voice was muffled through the hood. John looked torn. Scarlett turned away and began strapping her armor on. She heard him sigh heavily from behind her when she stood and moved toward the door.

“Please be careful.” His voice sounded small. It caught her off guard, and she stopped in the doorway, bracing one hand against it. The aching in her chest tightened.

“As careful as I can be… Good luck helping the ghouls.” She pushed away from the doorframe.

“Oh, and Patches… nice rack.” That was more like the John she was accustomed to. Scar turned around to chide him, only to find he was leaned over the pool table holding the triangular rack in his hand and rounding up the remaining balls. He straightened up, holding the rack in one hand and the 8 ball in the other. John grinned at her expectantly. Scarlett rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s in surprisingly good condition after all these years. You've got balls y'know that?” She said over her shoulder as she turned away and stepped out the door.

“Ain’t that the truth.” John chuckled behind her. Scarlett heard the items thump as he tossed them back on the table. She shook her head. _He has no idea…_

Scar walked through the ruined streets swiftly and reached the door to Goodneighbor by early afternoon. Inside, her mind was still aflame with guilt and concern. Outside her demeanor was calm and collected.

She took a deep breath before reaching for the old rusty door to town. _Damn this sack hood smells._ As she entered her eyes swept the area, alert for signs of danger. Scarlett noticed Finn approaching from a distance, his usual smarmy grin gracing his dirty face.

 _Really?! Every-fucking-time! I’m not putting up with your shenanigans today… No John or Hancock here to stop me_. She had her hand on her combat knife and a smile plastered on her face. When he stepped up, she reached out, grabbed his jacket, and yanked him forward before he could speak. He was close enough to feel the bite of her knife against his belly through his shirt.

“Let’s skip the introductions and avoid any bloody accidents. Wha’dya say?“ Scar growled lowly and pressed the knife against him with enough force to cut his shirt.

Finn’s eyes widened. He gritted his teeth and swallowed with a nod.

“Good, then our meeting is adjourned.” She shoved him away and eased her knife back into its sheath.

“Fin.” She said with a flourish of her hand and walked away snickering at her own joke. Finn just scowled after her. Scarlett pushed onward to the Memory Den. One of Vic’s guys stood by the door, leaning against the wall and eyeing her approach. Luckily, he didn't appear to recognize her. When she ignored him and stepped forward, his hand dropped to the gun at his hip.

“Vic’s got business with the Doc. Come back later.” He reached out to grab her shoulder and Scar knocked his wrist away.

“I’ve got business with Vic. I’m going in.” She took another step closer, and so did the goon.

“It can wait.” He growled reaching for her shoulder again. _Here we go..._ Scarlett grabbed his extended arm with a hand on either side of his wrist and turned, pulling his arm forward with her movement. She raised one arm, elbow up over his, and pushed downward. Her leg had been placed in front of him and he stumbled forward into the arm lock. He struggled for a moment, but she tutted at him and increased the pressure. The man gasped and stilled.

“If you fight me, I’ll dislocate something. I’m going to speak to Vic. You’re going to let me.” She replied coldly. The man nodded quickly and she released him. He glared up at her. Scar didn’t give him a second glance, just moved past him and swung the door open. _Please let Amari still be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered if the game developers named him Finn because he dies/ends the moment you meet him. Y'know, like at the end of old movies... Fin. Finish. The end.
> 
> Anyway... just had to slip that joke in there.  
> Also featuring Wiseman and terrible pool puns!  
> (nose puns will make a comeback later ;P)


	12. Down and Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity, Graphic Violence*

Scarlett crept through the hall of the entryway. She was cloaked in shadow when she peeped around the corner. The dark burgundy wine atmosphere of the Memory Den greeted her. Upon witnessing the scene unfolding before her, instinct told her to rush forward and challenge Vic. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that waiting for the opportune moment might yield better results.

Irma was staring at the floor, doing her best to avoid eye contact with the thugs leering at her as they held her upper arms. More upsetting was the view of Vic with Amari shoved up against the wall, his greasy hand wrapped around her delicate throat.

“I have your caps! Just – “Amari struggled to finish her sentence over Vic’s tightening grip, “check the top drawer. Desk. Back room!” She choked out. Vic gave another squeeze with a gruff laugh before releasing her suddenly. Amari fell to the floor in a limp gasping heap. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, but made no move to stand. Much like Irma, she avoided eye contact with her captor.

“Ay! One of you. Check the desk. You heard her, top drawer.” Vic barked over his shoulder. He kept his eyes glued to the doctor as one of the thugs broke away from Irma and headed toward the back room. He reappeared a moment later with a large sack of caps. Vic held out his hand and the man dropped it into his open palm without a word.

“Hmm, you been holdin’ out for a while. This sack is hefty Amari… and after the lovely display I produced the other night?” Vic clicked his tongue like a disappointed parent with an unruly child, “I expected better from you.” He crouched down. Scarlett saw Amari flinch away when he breathed on her face.

“I’ll be taking a larger cut for the delay.” He took a lock of her short hair and twisted it around his finger. “Let’s see how much you’ve got.” He released her hair and stood up, opening the sack held in his other hand. He gave a low whistle.

“Wow, business is booming! I’ll be taking at least seventy percent thanks to your procrastination.” Vic poured some caps out on the floor and pocketed the rest of the sack.

“Well, more like eighty, but who’s counting?” He cackled at his own joke. Amari remained silent. His craggy grin faded fast into malice.

“Now,” He leaned over her, “heard that Red bitch has been paying you visits. Why?”

“…w-who?” Amari sputtered out.

“Don’t play with me! That red cunt – Ruby or Scarlet! Whatever fuckin’ hoity-toity name she goes by! Tell me!” He shouted and smashed his fist against the wall next to Amari. Plaster rained down on her and she curled into herself a bit more.

“Memory viewings. Childhood memories.” Amari offered. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but she hadn’t done so even once during the encounter, so it didn’t seem odd.

“BULLSHIT!” He raged and once again dropped to a crouch in front of her. “What’d she really want?!” Vic’s hand snaked out and grabbed her chin, jerking her to face him. Scarlett clenched her fists.

“Same thing people always want! To return to a time they miss!” Amari replied. _That’s… kind of the truth. Although I wouldn’t say it’s the same thing people always want. Similar, but with a time travel twist? Nostalgia tinged with Sci-Fi?_ Scarlett tried to joke to herself, but the whole situation made her stomach turn. Sometimes humor was not the best defense mechanism.

“Really? That’s it? She visited you twice over two days… that’s more than most folk want, let alone can afford.” He growled. Dr. Amari didn’t respond.

“Not gonna elaborate? Maybe you just need some motivation…” His fingers dug into her chin and she grimaced.

“Boys, bring Irma over here.” He snapped his fingers with his free hand. The men shared a grin and dragged Irma until they were standing just behind Vic.

“Let’s play a game… I know you two got a special thing goin’.” Amari looked at Vic with tearful eyes, but didn’t deny his claim.

“So! Every time I ask you a question, you’re gonna give me the truth. If you don’t, I’m gonna have my boys take a souvenir to remember the time we’ve shared. Starting with her clothes.” He tilted his head sideways and Amari looked past him, scowling at the two men holding Irma. Vic gave her chin a little shake and her eyes darted back to him.

“Got it Doc?” He released her chin and gave her cheek two rough little slap-pats. Amari made eye contact with Irma before looking back at Vic and nodding. Irma’s lower lip quivered and she closed her eyes.

“Good! So, I’ll ask again. What did she want?” Vic licked his lips. Amari swallowed and looked at the floor.

“I’m losing my patience,” He grunted, “tell me what she wanted.” Amari opened her mouth. _I can’t let her speak for me… not like this._

“I want you to stop. Right now.” Scarlett raised her voice and stepped forward into the dimly lit room. Vic spun around. The heads of the two thugs swiveled to look in her direction.

“And who the fuck are you to be making demands?” He gave her a scornful, incredulous look.

“My answer wasn’t obvious enough?” She took a few steps closer and removed the sack hood she was wearing. Vic looked her over from head-to-toe and a contemptuous smile slid back onto his face.

“Speak of the devil.” He said and rose from his place in front of Amari. The two goons looked unsure of what to do and their grips loosened on Irma in their distraction. Scar took a few more steps closer.

“What do you want Vic? You’ve got your caps. Leave them alone.” She knew her words would piss him off, but her priority was getting their attention away from Amari and Irma. Vic sneered and he tossed his head back with a roar of a laugh.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You come into MY town, and think you can tell ME what to do?” He shook his head and snapped his fingers again. The goons holding Irma released her. They approached Vic, but stayed just behind him. Scarlett’s shoulders bunched with tension.

“Amari and Irma have nothing to do with this. I’m right here.  So, what do you want?” Scarlett replied calmly. Vic’s smile was all teeth.

“I want a lotta things.” He stalked towards her and Scar had to make an effort not to step back or flinch away when he invaded her space. His smile dropped off his face.

“Right now, I want you to come with me.” He moved in a tight circle around her, shoulders almost brushing hers.

“Why?” She questioned. His eyes narrowed and he came to stop in front of her.

“None of your goddamn business.” Vic spat. He took a step back and nodded his head at his dogs, then towards Scar. They stepped forward and brandished a set of handcuffs.

“Ah, geez! Don’t cha think we’re moving a little fast? How ‘bout a drink first fellas?” Scarlett jested with a confidence she didn’t feel. His goons advanced on her.

“So you’d prefer to dance, is that it?” She dropped into a fighting stance and pulled her combat knife from its sheath. The advancing men hesitated and looked back at Vic.

“You’re a cheeky bitch, huh?” Vic crossed his arms. “Get her wrists.”

The first man that stepped up seemed to mistake her joking manner as simply a means of stalling. He realized his error when she sliced him across the cheek. He lurched back clutching his face.

“Kitty’s got claws boys.” Vic chuckled. The second guy stepped forward with brass knuckles on one hand and handcuffs in the other. Scarlett lunged at him before he could swing. He dodged the stab to his gut, but she brought the blade down into his thigh instead. He cried out and managed to stumble away as she drew the second knife hidden in her boot.

Scar was beginning to feel more self-assured about her circumstances after wounding the two thugs. However, the sound of boots reached her ears. Three more goons donning metal armor and rifles stepped into the room. _Dammit, I guess the guy outside got around to summoning the posse._

“…And there’s the cavalry. Something, something knife to a gun fight.” She said grumpily. One of the cronies behind her snorted and Vic shot him a withering glare. _Five on one… six counting Vic. No cover, no explosives… and if I pull a gun, I’ll get shot. I don’t like these odds._

One of the men with a rifle swung it onto his back with a condescending smirk and pulled out a lead pipe. He stepped forward and swung, but Scarlett sidestepped. Her knife caught him on the shoulder between his pauldron and chest plate. He yelped and she could see resentment simmering from his blunder.

She had just caught movement in her peripherals when a blinding pain knocked her forward onto her knees. Scar gritted her teeth and tried to see past the spots in her vision. She got to her feet again and swiped wildly behind her. The man who had hit her with the butt of his rifle jumped back. Vic was laughing heartily now and slapped his thigh.

The man with the lead pipe dropped it and switched back to his rifle. The three men with the rifles shared a look and converged on her in unison. She managed to disarm one of them, and avoid the swing of the second, but the third one landed another smack to her head with the gun.

Scarlett fell forward on her hands and knees. _There’s just too many…_ An immediate kick to her gut knocked the air out of her. She tried to take a gasping breath, but another strike to the back of her head dropped her to the floor and her vision went black.

* * *

  _Scarlett rematerialized in a burst of light. She staggered forward onto her knees breathing heavily. When she dragged her gaze up, she found Hancock sitting on the steps of the Old North Church. His eyes were wide and fixed on her. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. His mouth hung agape and a cigarette dangled precariously from his bottom lip. When she dragged herself to her feet, it dropped and died with a sizzle in a puddle next to his boot. He didn’t notice._

_“Howdy… didya miss me?” Scar’s casual greeting hung awkwardly in the air between them. Hancock blinked._

_“You… came back.” He blinked again._

_“Yeahhh, who’da thunk it?” She made her way over to him slowly. He just watched, completely flabbergasted. Scar stopped in front of him._

_“So… uh… how long was I gone?” She rubbed the back of her neck. Hancock shook himself and looked around for his cigarette._

_“Walked around the church. Killed some raiders. Came back. Huffed jet and got a couple drags off my smoke.” He toed the soggy tobacco stick with his boot._

_“So… not very long.” He stood up suddenly and walked a few paces away from her. He paused, then turned around and came back. He lifted a hand, opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it with a shake of his head. He paced away again._

_“Um… are you alright?” Scarlett finally asked after he had done this twice more. This time, he strode back to her with so much zeal she thought he might have been angry. He nearly collided with her, pulling her into a desperate hug. He turned his head to the side and pressed his face into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him and they held each other for a quiet moment._

_“…I really wanted your chem stash.” He finally mumbled. Scarlett pulled away with a gasp. She yanked his hat off his head and hit him with it. Hancock chuckled and grinned at her roguishly, but his eyes shimmered in a way that told her he was more worried than he’d let on. Scar put his hat back on his head with a smile._

_“Glad you’re back. Now I don’t have to disappoint Garvey.” He readjusted his tricorn._

_“Like Tom said, just a test run… and I’m pretty sure you already disappoint Garvey.” She replied, hand on hip._

_“I think fun disappoints Garvey.” Hancock shrugged. Scarlett rolled her eyes._

_“C’mon you scalawag! Let’s go tell Tom.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the Old North Church. Hancock held onto his tricorn and gladly let her pull him along._


	13. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity and Graphic Violence*
> 
> Lucky number 13! This chapter is longer than usual, but I didn't want to break it up.

Scarlett slowly regained consciousness in a daze. Her head and midsection were a mess of searing aches and pains. Her mouth felt full of cotton. It was only upon wholly waking she realized it actually was. _I hope this rag is clean… doesn’t taste like it is._

She didn’t bother trying to get up yet. Instead, she stayed lying on her side. _Where the hell am I?_ She listened to her surroundings. Muted voices through the walls and the floor below her. Wood floor. Definitely in a building with multiple stories.

Scar tried to move her hands, but they were stilled cuffed behind her back. _Shit…_ She wiggled her toes and found her ankles were bound with rope. _Double shit…_ She finally opened her eyes to peer around. _Looks like the top floor of the Old State House._

The twinge in her neck stopped her from keeping her head raised for very long. Scarlett dropped it to the floor again. The back of her head and neck felt sticky. _Probably blood. I gotta get outta here… how long was I out?_ It was night outside the window, but that was her only clue.

She heard voices drawing closer. Scar went limp and closed her eyes. _Probably better if they don’t know I’m awake yet…_ She heard the door open. A couple pairs of boots entered the room.

“Dumb bitch is still out. Vic said to bring her down in the morning.” Scarlett heard the floorboards creak as a man walked past her and settled down somewhere to her right.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll go get us a bottle if you keep an eye on her.” Said the other man from somewhere to her left.

“Deal.” The right side man replied. She heard the floorboards at the doorway signaling the other man’s departure. The remaining man grumbled. Scar sat silently for about fifteen minutes when she heard a deep croaking sigh of breath. _Is he snoring? He actually fell asleep?!_

Scarlett squinted into the room with one eye and indeed saw the thug passed out in an armchair. She opened both eyes and scanned his form. _Sleeping Beauty wasteland edition ain’t so pretty._ He had a knife sheathed at his belt, but it looked securely fastened into place. There was no way she could get to it without alerting him.

He didn’t appear to have any keys on him. Scar would put caps on Vic having the keys to her cuffs. _If I could only find a bobby pin_. She scanned around the room and inventoried her surroundings.

There were a few old cans and a couple empty liquor bottles, but the room was mostly barren. _Good thing no one here recycles. I could break a bottle and use the glass to cut the ropes… but I’ll still be handcuffed. And how do I quietly break a bottle without injuring myself?_

Scarlett waited anxiously for the other man to return. She hoped they were planning on getting drunk. If they both passed out, she might have a shot at escape. Speaking of shots, the other guy on guard duty finally returned with the booze and the two men began their measly celebration.

They didn’t pay her much heed. She overheard discussion about her body at one point, but they worried her patches might be a communicable disease. _Good! That’s certainly an upside to the scarring… love me some silver linings._ They began huffing jet in addition to drinking. Scarlett hoped it would hasten their departure from consciousness.

They argued over turns on watch duty, but it didn’t take long for the first man on watch to pass out. _Huzzah for amateurs! Gotta get my arms in front of me._ She drew her knees up to her chest, wincing as she tried to ignore her protesting abdominals. Scar brought her joined wrists down and worked them around the bottom of her feet.

 _Step one complete._ She reached up and pulled the rag from her mouth and untied it from her neck. _Well, now I have a rag. That might muffle the sound of glass breaking and protect my hand._ She wriggled her way over to one of a bottles and wrapped the cloth around it. She glanced at the snoring men.

 _Shit… I should have my arms behind my back in case the sound still wakes them up._ Scarlett got her wrists positioned behind her back again before raising her boots and bringing them down on the cloth-wrapped bottle. It shattered. The sound was dampened, but caused one of the guards to stir.

His sleep addled brain couldn’t discern where the sound came from. He looked towards her, then looked out the window before falling asleep again. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Scar switched her arms in front of her again. After wrapping the largest and sharpest shard of glass in the cloth, she sawed the ropes binding her feet. _Step two complete. Now I just gotta get these handcuffs off and flee… and not necessarily in that order._

Scar looked back at the guards _. I could just try to leave the room, although they might hear the door. I’d be defenseless then… I could knock one guard out with the last glass bottle and take his knife._ Scar bit her lip. She didn’t know how she would take out the remaining guard _. Fingers-crossed he doesn’t wake up?_ She tucked the rag into her pocket.

 _No true love’s kiss for this Sleeping Beauty, just the kiss of a bottle..._ Scarlett crept forward with the last liquor bottle and raised it above the thug’s head. She swung it down on him with all the force she could muster. The bottle shattered. Scar grabbed his combat knife, jamming it in the empty sheath at her hip. The man slumped in his chair and crimson trails trickled down his forehead.

Unfortunately the other guard jolted awake in confusion. _Fuck!_ Scarlett yanked the rag from her pocket. _Hope this works…_ She stomped on his foot before he could get his bearings. Impulse took over like she’d planned. He opened his mouth to shriek. Scar immediately sprung forward, stuffing the rag in to smother him. Her hands went over the front of his face to keep it there.

The two of them struggled as he tried to shove her off. Scarlett’s nerves were causing her to shake. Her hold loosened. He knocked her shackled wrists away. _He’s going to spit the rag out and call for aid!_ She panicked, drew the blade at her hip, and sunk it into the side of his neck.

The man tensed with a faint whimper. Hot blood ran over her hand. His strength to fight ebbed away. The rag in his mouth was soaked with the liquid spurting from his throat. He choked and his body spasmed. Scarlett kept her hold on him as he collapsed to the floor.

Tears stung her eyes. _He would have yelled for help… then you’d have been worse off. Get up. Leave. Someone might’ve heard. Go. GO!_ Scarlett dragged herself away from the bodies, then turned back and frisked them. _Dammit! Is a bobby pin too much to ask for?!_

She recovered the combat knife from his neck wound. The second knife still sheathed on him went into her boot. She took a deep breath, cracked the door open, and peeped through the opening. The hallway was clear of other guards. She crept toward the doorway that lead to the spiral staircase.

There were two more of Vic’s goons waiting below. Scarlett sat patiently at the top and brainstormed how to get past them. She had two knives, but wasn’t very good at throwing them. One guy she could take, but the second thug would be able to yell for backup.

She made her way over to a window to see if there was a way she could climb down. Alas, scaling a brick wall with no footholds didn’t seem safe. The drop would certainly cripple a leg or two. Scar sighed and made her way back to the doorway by the stairwell.

She sat there for another thirty minutes. Music was wailing from a radio in the room that would someday be Hancock’s office. One of the guards had been chain smoking out of boredom and was down to his last cigarette.

“I’m gonna run down to Daisy’s and buy a pack.” He informed the other guard.

“Vic said not to leave under any circumstances tonight.” The other man scoffed.

“Oh c’mon, there are two guys up there with her. He’s not starting the interrogation until tomorrow. I’ll only be gone 10 minutes.” He pleaded.

“Whatever. If Vic comes back out, I ain’t coverin’ your ass. While you’re out there, you might as well tell Shiv he’s supposed to nab Amari and Irma for the festivities tomorrow.” The guard replied. The other man waved him off and headed out the door.

 _This is my chance! I’ve got 10 minutes_. As soon as the goon had exited, Scarlett headed down the stairs. She took the steps slowly. When she reached the fourth from the bottom, it gave a loud creak. Scarlett didn’t hesitate.

She flew at the guard with her knife, once again aiming for the throat. He turned right as she collided with him and the knife buried deep. He made an agonized, angry gurgle and clawed at her blade. The guard managed to toss her into a wall. The damage had been done though. He stumbled into the stairs loudly. Scar staggered to her feet.

Her muscles strained and her wounds screamed, but she clenched her jaw and raced down the rest of the stairs. The radio had clicked off in the adjacent room. She pushed out the back door and into the street.

The chain-smoking guard from earlier was rounding the corner at the far end of the building. His head was down as he examined a bottle he’d apparently purchased at the Third Rail in addition to the cigarettes from Daisy’s.

Scarlett darted toward Daisy’s shop while he was distracted with his vices. For once, the shopkeeper wasn’t behind the counter. She tucked herself into the space and waited. Sure enough, shouts reached her ears as the bodies were discovered.   

Daisy ambled down from upstairs, curious what all the noise was about. She spotted Scar and her eyes widened. She said nothing as she approached the counter. Scarlett lifted a finger to her lips hoping her eyes communicated her thoughts. Daisy walked behind the counter and stood in front of her.

“I won’t say anything. You can’t stay here though. They told me to sell everything you had in your pack. KL-E-0 has your weapons, but I doubt she’ll part with ‘em. Take your stuff and leave.” Daisy whispered. Scarlett nodded and reclaimed her pack. Her caps were gone, but most of her possessions were still accounted for.

 _Sweet, sweet bobby pins! Blessed are thee among thieving devices. I’ll never take you for granted again!_ Scarlett resisted the urge to rub her cheek against the box. She settled for picking the lock on her handcuffs before packing them into her bag. She pulled her hair back with a string and slipped a bobby-pin in. _I’ll hide one on me from now on._

“Thanks Daisy. I’ll come back someday and get those books returned to the library for you. I’ll even pay the late fees! I promise.” Daisy just shook her head with a small smile.

Scar waited until the patrolling guards had passed by before scurrying out the shop, around the corner, and into the alleyway. Another group of guards walked by. Once they had passed out of sight she made her way to the Memory Den, keeping to the shadows.

“Amari? Irma?!” Scarlett called in a harsh whisper. The two of them appeared from the basement staircase leading to the back room.

“What are you doing here?! You’ll get us all killed!” Amari made a shooing motion at her.

“I thought we could share some tea before the morning interrogation and afternoon hanging.” Scar deadpanned. Amari crossed her arms. “Sorry… I need my Pip-Boy and neither of you can stay here. Think about it! Vic will just use you to draw me out or kill you.” She explained. Irma looked worriedly at Amari.

“I never should have helped you.” Amari gave a frustrated sigh and uncrossed her arms.

“Yeah, and I never should have time traveled, but here we are! Grab any weapons you have and come with me. We’re going to Diamond City.” Scar responded. Amari gave a curt nod and they all proceeded down the stairs to the back room.

The good doctor opened the safe under her desk. She handed Scarlett the Pip-Boy. Irma stepped up and the two split the caps and goods. Irma pulled her skirt up and tucked a modded 10mm into a thigh sheath. Amari dropped a pipe pistol into the pocket of her lab coat.

“Got another gun? They took my weapons… ” Scar asked apologetically. Amari handed her a pipe pistol with only 10 rounds.

“That’s all I have. Use it wisely.” The doctor seemed miffed, but she couldn’t blame her. This was mostly Scarlett’s fault after all. Scar turned to lead them back up the stairs.

"You should let me examine your head wound. It looks serious." The doc stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"We don't have time. I've made it this far. I'll get it checked out in Diamond City." She shook her off with a frown. Amari looked concerned but didn't press the matter.

The trio headed out, avoiding the streetlights and prowling gangsters. By some miracle they got out of town without alerting any guards. The group quietly stole off towards Diamond City with the moon lighting their path.

By the time they had arrived at their destination it was early afternoon. They were all bone-tired. Amari and Irma were not battle savvy. Fortunately Scarlett had stimpaks and was able to scavenge better weapons. Regardless of those saving graces, the journey had been arduous and difficult.

It was made worse by the injuries she had already obtained from her encounter with Vic and his dogs. _I need to get them to safety… Almost there._ She barely felt the ground as her feet carried her through town.

Scar was haggard and lightheaded when they reached Valentine’s door. She pulled it open, sheer force of will driving her down the short hallway with Amari and Irma on her heels. As she reached the main room, it began to spin and she teetered on her feet.

Someone had asked her a question. Scar tried to make sense of the words. _What…?_ Her lips attempted to form the question, but she was overwhelmed with exhaustion. Arms caught her. _Did I fall?_ She was lost to the world around her.

* * *

_Scarlett sat with her knees drawn up and arms wrapped around herself. Hancock sat across from her. Both were quiet by the fire. Her troubled mind was comforted by the return to their routine. Trek through the ‘Wealth, help folk in need, find a secure location to rest, dinner and a fire, then sleep. Repeat._

_She watched the heated tendrils lick the wood away into ash, completely entranced. She often lost herself staring into the flames of their nightly fires these days. She’d grown more withdrawn since the time travel test had been a success. Hancock watched the shadows of the flames flicker over her face. She didn’t notice._

_“Hmm… anyone home?” Scarlett remained silent. Hancock’s tongue rolled a mentat around his mouth. He got up, dusted his frock coat, and walked over to settle down next to her. Scarlett looked at him and blinked as if she’d forgotten he was there._

_“Sorry, I just…” She trailed off and looked down at her boots. The scarred skin of Hancock’s brow lifted. She looked back at the fire._

_“Just thinking about how much I miss my family… What could’ve been.” She hugged herself tighter and buried her face in her knees. Hancock scooted closer. He hesitated before wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Scar tensed at first, then relaxed and leaned into him. Her head rested against his shoulder._

_“I know Shaun is gone and Nate would want me to move on… I just can’t seem to do it. It feels like I’m forgetting them.” Her words were quiet next to the crackling fire._

_“You’ll never forget, but it’ll get better. Takes time sister.” His thumb rubbed her where his hand held her shoulder._

_“…’Sides, you spend too much time thinkin’ of your old family, you’ll miss out on your new one.” He said sagely. ‘Funny how his voice can be gentle and rough at the same time’ Scarlett thought._

_“Yeah, a big new family of misfits…” Her voice was still quiet, but tinged with fondness. A crooked smile tugged Hancock’s lips. Her hair tickled her face, moved by his breath. She knew he was watching her, but made no effort to acknowledge it._

_A week or so ago, she might have tried to take the intimacy further. Now she was just appreciative of his company and friendship. She didn’t want to risk the relationship that had blossomed between them for some selfish romantic desire._

_“Mm,” Scar yawned, “Y’know you’re wise beyond your years? Here you are giving advice to a woman over 200 years old.”_

_“Make as many mistakes as me, you’ll be giving advice too doll.” John replied with his usual brand of snarky self-detriment._

_“There’s nothing wrong with making mistakes. You may have started out coal, but you’ve endured the pressure of the ‘Wealth and came out stronger in spite of it all.” She turned her face into the dusty worn fabric of his coat sleeve with a sigh._

_“You’re a diamond John,” She felt his breath flutter her hair again. “…although diamonds were always valued more than their worth…” She muttered with a frown. He chuckled._

_“S'_ _ppose that’s the most fitting part.” Scarlett huffed into his shoulder and shook her head at his reply. She wanted to punch him, but didn’t have the energy. ‘Plus, he beats himself up enough anyway’ she thought._

_“They’re also the hardest naturally occurring substance on earth.” Scar yawned again, “I hope someday you’ll realize your true worth.” She murmured. Her eyes were heavy. Without meaning to, she began drifting off to sleep. She couldn’t tell if Hancock’s fingers were carding through her hair, or the wind. She wasn't sure which one she preferred, but she knew this was the closest to happy she'd been in a long time._


	14. Is It Hot In Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language & Drug Use.*

Scarlett groaned. Her ears distantly picked up on someone speaking, but she wasn’t awake enough to decipher it yet. _I’m so tired… Just lemme sleep a little longer._ Her hair was being lifted away from her neck, eliciting a sharp shooting pain.

“Not… so hard.” Scar spoke softly and furrowed her brow. She felt woozy and knew there was something she was supposed to be doing. _Time to get up sleepy-head._ She heard a voice speaking again, but only caught a few words.

“…should really… a bed…” The voice faded in and out. It sounded familiar. _Hancock? Oh, that’s right! I should crawl into my bedroll…_

 “Sorry I fell… asleep on you Hancock.” She said wearily. Her hands reached out, seeking a way to sit up. _Why does everything feel so heavy? Why is it so hot? And why do I feel like I’m being cradled against his chest?_

“Easy doll. Your head got knocked pretty bad...” She felt a cool hand against her forehead. Her face pinched more. _We just helped a settlement today. I didn’t hit my head…_

“Damn… you’re burning up.” The hand pulled away.

“I’ll go get medical supplies from Dr. Sun. Irma, why don’t you get us a couple rooms at the Dugout so she can sleep in a proper bed?” Scarlett heard the sound of footsteps heading down a hallway and the opening of a door.

“Wait!” the hurried sound of heels clicking reached her ears. “We don’t have enough caps for an extended stay for all three of us. She’s got loot to sell, but obviously isn’t in the condition to do so…”

“At least get our room for now. We’ll figure out what to do with her after I fix her up.” The door closed.

“Valentine, you really need to get a bed in here.” The rumbling through the chest she was held against was soothing. She pressed her sweaty forehead into it.

 _Wait… Amari? Irma? Valentine? Shit… then the person holding me must be… John?_ She pulled away slightly and opened her eyes, blinking against the bright lights. _Blonde hair. Definitely John._ He gingerly shifted his arm under her legs, but was looking at the detective.

“I don’t sleep. It’d be a waste of space. Only ever needed a desk and a chair.” He replied from across the room with a shrug.

“You also don’t have lungs, but you still smoke.” John jabbed back with a lifted brow.

“Hm. Got me there…” Valentine shook his head.

 “Sorry John… I thought you were… someone else.” She mumbled and weakly pushed against his chest.

“S’alright. Fever’s probably got you a bit delirious.” He looked down at her, both concerned and amused by her feeble struggling.

“I can stand… I’m good.” She pushed against him more firmly, but he just tightened his hold.

“I know you’re _good_ ,” He emphasized the word, “But you’re also _unwell…_ and going nowhere until we find you a bed.” He tilted his head in thought for a moment.

“Look… I know ya won’t like this, but why don’tchya stay with me?” He offered, then quickly added, “I’ve got an extra bed.”

“Since when do you have another bed?” Valentine narrowed his eyes at him. John looked annoyed with the detective’s question, but finally shook his head with resignation.

“Someone was bound to find out sometime… Not surprised it’s you.” He muttered cryptically. Now Valentine just looked confused.

“I got a second bed when my dumb-shit brother abandoned his daughter.” John explained.

“...Run that by me again?” Valentine’s eyes widened. John walked over to the only chair in the room and sat down. He adjusted Scarlett in his arms, resting her in his lap and releasing her legs before continuing.

“My brother has an illegitimate daughter… he knocked up her ma’ at a young age and refused to marry her because she’s mentally unstable. He knew it would soil his reputation with the Upper-Stands folk, thus ruining his grand dream of becoming mayor. So, he decided not to acknowledge his involvement in her parentage.”

“So… she lives with you? How have you kept her hidden?” Valentine’s forehead creased as much as his synthetic skin would allow.

“Naw, she lives out in the ruins near Goodneighbor with her ma’. My brother used to bring her supplies, but last year when he came back he seemed… different.” John looked far away when he paused.

“Anyway, he refused to continue seeing her. Said he needed to be more serious about preparing for his campaign. I didn’t like the thought of them out there with no help, so I started bringing her supplies myself. Sometimes she stays with me when her ma' is having… an episode.” He continued.

“Huh… So you’re an uncle.” Valentine stated. John nodded.

“Practically her adoptive father at this point. She’s a good kid,” John smirked, “Got a bit of an attitude, but she’s had a tough life. Smart though. Loves chess.” He finished. _No-fucking-way… is he talking about who I think he is? I’ll have to ask later…_

The room fell silent then. Valentine walked over to Scar’s rucksack on the floor and rummaged through it before removing a can of purified water.

“Here, drink this.” He walked over to the pair seated in the chair and handed her the can. Scar popped it open and drank greedily. A small trickle of water slid down her chin and she wiped it away. When she finished the can her head felt a little clearer.

Scarlett suddenly became painfully aware of her placement. She could feel his breath on her cheek and her backside pressing into his thighs. _I’ve never even sat in Hancock’s lap_. She cleared her throat and winced as she moved to stand. John arms went out worriedly as if to catch her, then dropped back down to his sides.

“I’m alright see? I’ll go sell my goods and get a room at - SHHIT.” Scar’s right knee buckled when she took a step forward. John and Nick both jolted forward, but she managed to catch herself on the closest wall.

“Yeah Kidd, we see…” Valentine replied and shared a look with John.

“C’mon, I don’t bite… well, unless you want me to.” John said the last part under his breath and Valentine shot him a disapproving look. “Oh, calm down detective. Just a joke… Seriously though, you should stay at my place doll. One night.” He pushed.

“I’m gonna have to agree with him on this one… sans biting of course.” Nick pulled out a cigarette and gave John another dirty look before lighting it. Then he tossed the pack and the lighter on his desk. Scarlett squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“Okay. One night,” she finally caved and puffed grumpily. John chuckled. It sounded triumphant, but somehow disheartened as well. _He's not actually disappointed by my hesitation is he?_ The room fell silent again and Irma burst through the door. She looked around surprised.

“Amari hasn’t gotten back yet?” She asked. Valentine looked troubled.

“No, but you’re right. She should’ve been here by now.” He looked to John. They didn’t say anything to each other, but there was clearly some nonverbal communication. Scarlett was too tired to understand what it was.

“I’ll go check in with Dr. Sun.” John left the room quickly. Valentine took Scar by the arm and helped her to sit again in his only chair. Irma shifted feet nervously. John reappeared about 5 minutes later.

“Dr. Sun said she never came into the shop,” John reported with unease. Valentine turned his golden gaze to Irma. Her eyes were tearing up. Scarlett dropped her head into her hands.

“So either she skipped town, or someone followed us from Goodneighbor… and I don’t think it’s the former.” Scar said the words they were all thinking.

“Why don’t you let me walk you to the Dugout tonight Irma. We should all meet back here tomorrow morning.” Valentine took Irma by the arm before turning to John.

“Get her to Dr. Sun and be careful on your way home.” John nodded back. Irma and Nick let themselves out. Scarlett’s head was still in her hands when he turned back to her.

“Let’s go sunshine,” he stepped closer and offered her his hand. Scarlett didn’t take it. He reached out and gently lifted her chin. Her hands dropped away from her face to reveal a puffy right eye and wet cheek.

“Feelin’ more like a rainy day huh? Let’s get going. We can talk about it when we get to my place.” Scar nodded numbly in response.

“Let’s try this again.” John held his hand out to her and this time she took it and let him pull her to her feet.

Scarlett was lightheaded again by the time they reached Dr. Sun’s. He noticed them as soon as they walked through the door.

“Oh my. You look terrible. Please, sit down. I’ll get you fixed up.” Scarlett didn’t reply, just did as she was told. He administered a stimpak at the site of the injury, then cleaned and bandaged the back of her head immediately.

“Alright, your head wound was pretty bad… you probably had a concussion, but the stim will take care of that. It was also becoming infected, so I’m giving you antibiotics to take daily for the next week. Change the bandage every day for the next few days. Get lots of rest and drink lots of fluids,” he instructed once he had finished doing everything he could.

“Thanks Doc.” John handed him some caps. He slung an arm around Scar’s waist and hoisted her up. They slowly made their way to his house. Upon entering, he sat her down on the couch. She looked around at the modest abode.

It was relatively small. There was a tiny kitchen, the rather large couch she was seated on, a coffee table with an ashtray, a standing bookcase that was half-full, and a bedroom in the back. Strings of lights hung on the walls and twinkled in a way that reminded her of the way Goodneighbor would be decorated in the future. Scarlett’s gaze dropped down to her boots.

John entered the kitchen and pulled a box from one of the cabinets. He walked back to where she sat on the couch and dropped it on the coffee table. He sat down beside her on the left before opening the box and pulling out a tin of mentats.

“Chem stash,” He smiled and held the metal tin out to her, “… mentat?” Scarlett just shook her head. John popped several of them. They sat in silence for a moment before she cracked under the weight of her own thoughts.

“I should have been watching our backs better when we left Goodneighbor… I knew we got outta there too easy. Now…” She choked up. John turned to face her.

“Hey, it’s not your fault y – “ Scarlett whipped her head up quick enough to make herself dizzy and cut him off.

“Oh, Bullshit!” John seemed startled by her outburst. He cocked his head in confusion at her word choice.

“Er… Brahmin shit. Whatever! I got Amari and Irma into my shit-show and now they’re paying the price. I never should have gone to Goodneighbor…” John watched her warily and rolled the ‘tat around his mouth.

 “Why’d you even go to Goodneighbor? What’s Amari helping you with?” He asked. Scarlett opened her mouth and closed it again. Her knuckles had gone white with her grip on the couch cushions.

“She was supposed to help me with my Pip-Boy.” She hoped he wouldn’t press the matter, but knew better at this point. _Fat chance._

“What’s up with your Pip-Boy? Why keep it such a big secret?” He pressed anyway. Scar sighed.

“Why are you so damn nosey John?” She asked with agitation. _Heh… won’t be nosey for long._ John laughed dryly.

“Patches… I spoke with Nick. I know you lied to me about being friends with him before… ” Scarlett closed her eyes. _Great! How am I gonna explain myself outta this one?_

“I’m really tired… Why don’t we chat tomorrow morning?” She released the couch cushions and rubbed her forehead.

“Really? You started this conversation… I barely know ya and I’m lettin’ ya stay here. Gimme a reason to trust you,” he pleaded. An awkward silence stretched between them.

“I’ll tell you what I can, but it isn’t much,” she said apologetically. He leaned closer. She could see the anticipation in his eyes.

“I needed Amari to help me recalibrate a certain chip in my Pip-Boy. The technology is extremely advanced and if the wrong person knew about it, like Vic… it could be very problematic. ” Scarlett fidgeted. He scooted closer and picked up her hand to stop her fidgeting, much like the night on the rooftop. She met his eyes, knowing full well he would see the uncertainty and fear there.

“Sounds ominous…" he replied as he examined her face, "how did this happen?" He reached out and brushed the top of her left cheek where the scarring stretched down from her eye. Scarlett bit her lip to stop it from trembling _._ His eyes dropped to her mouth before darting back up to meet her gaze.

“The patches are part of the side effects from using the chip. It’s a prototype. I should’ve tested it further before using it again,” Scar admitted. John narrowed his eyes.

“Again? So you’ve used it before?” He asked evenly. She nodded in response. “What exactly does it do?”

“Let’s just say it’s classified,” the corner of her lips quirked up and she shook her head, “and you’re safer not knowing.”

“Huh,” John huffed, “Makes it sound like you’re part of some secret organization…” Scarlett cracked a smile and snorted. John titled his head at her curiously. _Clever boy and his ‘tats._

“Well, I kinda am.” She finally said.

“The only two I can think of are the Institute and the Railroad…” He looked her over again as if he might spot something he’d missed before. Scarlett lifted an eyebrow.

“No way… which one?” John pushed. He looked skeptical now.

“Does it really matter?” The agitated edge had returned to her tone.

“It does if you want me to trust you,” he snipped back. Scarlett dropped her gaze. She considered pulling her hand from his, but he laced his fingers with hers as if he’d read her thoughts. That damned weight that had been haunting her returned to her chest.

“C’mon… is it really so difficult to trust me?” When she looked up again his eyes glinted in the lights. Scar could see the darker cobalt flecks speckling his cerulean blue irises. His expression was too open, earnest, and vulnerable. She could read him like a book, and she did love to read. Scarlett blinked with a flush and looked away.

“Railroad,” she said with a sigh and rubbed the back of her neck. John’s hand squeezed hers before loosening his grip, but he didn’t let go. _Damn him and his eyes…_ _doesn’t matter if they’re blue or black. They swallow me._

“Thanks Patches.” His knee brushed hers and sent a shock up her thigh. Scarlett stiffened. _Were we sitting this close the whole time?_ She pulled her hand from his quite suddenly. John’s brows creased.

“I… need to get some air.” Scar’s head spun as she stood up too fast, but she didn’t hesitate when she grabbed her bag and made for the door.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The nose pun strikes again!
> 
> Next chapter:  
> John's niece/adopted daughter will be revealed... pretty sure it's obvious who it is though!  
> 


	15. Mixed Signals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity*
> 
> This chapter ended up wayyy longer than I meant it to be. Hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> Woops!...I lied. John's niece/daughter isn't in this chapter, but she'll make an appearance soon. Sorry for the mislead.

Scarlett slipped outside and leaned against the sheet metal wall of John’s shack. It had started raining but the overhang from the roof kept her relatively dry. She lit up a cigarette as he opened the door and followed her out. Scar offered him one and he took it with a nod.

“Shouldn’t be out here alone right now. If Vic’s dogs got Amari, they might still be around.”  John exhaled smoke.

“Maybe… but, they didn’t grab Irma. She was by herself too. I have a feeling Amari is too important to Vic maintaining his cap flow. To him Irma’s just a looker who manages the business and I’m just a drifter who pissed him off.” Scarlett replied tiredly.

“Yeah, but Amari knows about the chip right? You said yourself he might be interested in it.” He argued.

“I don’t think he’ll really hurt Amari over it though… like I said, she’s too important. He might bully her a bit, but as long as her resolve stands the information is safe.” John hummed in response, though he still seemed skeptical.

“I also still need her help.” Scarlett took another drag.

“What? So you’re gonna go back? No offense, but you can barely walk right now.” John shook his head.

“I didn’t say I was gonna go back tomorrow. I know I need to heal… but, I’m leaving again as soon as I’m able.” She replied.

“What makes you think it’ll end any better than the first time?” He seemed irritated, but Scar could tell it was out of concern. She tried not to take his lack of faith personally.

“Nothing except the luxury of extra time… and he doesn’t have Irma to hold against me or Amari anymore. Nick’ll take care of her for the time being and I can return better prepared.” Scarlett pulled out her Pip-Boy and checked the date. _12:23 am October 21, 2081._

“Your brother is up for election in just over a week right? I’m assuming elections still take place in the first week of November?” She asked.

“Naw, October 23rd… folks thought it’d be nice to have elections on the anniversary of the day the bombs dropped. Give ‘em somethin’ positive to celebrate.” John corrected her.

“You mean… the election happens in 3 days?” Scarlett felt a chill run down her spine. _The ghouls will all be kicked out._

“Yeah, fingers crossed the Upper-Stands come to their senses and don’t elect my brother.” John took one last drag on his cigarette before snuffing it out. Scarlett remained silent. _This city’s gonna be a warzone in a few days…_

“Let’s go back inside.” Scarlett finished her cigarette. The two walked back into his house. Scar rubbed her arms.

“You cold? I’ve got a blanket and some clothes you can borrow if you’d like.” John headed toward the bedroom. She only hesitated for a moment before following. There was only one bed, although there appeared to be a small bathroom she hadn’t seen before. There were some empty bottles, 'tats tins, and jet canisters scattered about. The room wasn't too dirty other than that. Scar assumed John didn't have enough clothing and belongings to leave lying around. 

“Where is the second bed you mentioned?” Her forehead creased.

“I was wondering when you’d ask that,” John grinned, “there’s a pull-out bed in the couch.”

“Where’d you get it? I haven’t seen one of those since before the – “ Scarlett paused when she realized she’d almost slipped up. John cocked an eyebrow at her sudden pause.

“Since before I parted ways with a pre-war friend,” she finished.

“Weissman helped me make it. He’s a pre-war ghoul too.” John shrugged out of his jacket and Scar pretended not to admire his shoulders working through the thin white shirt. She looked away and cleared her throat.

“Blanket?” She requested. John hung his jacket on a hook and pulled a wrinkled blanket from the foot of his bed.

“Take this one. Lemme know if you need anything else.” Scarlett took it with a nod before heading into the living room to prep the sofa. It only took her a moment to figure it out. Her parents used to have one before she’d left for college.

She spread the blanket over it. Scar sat down and began unlacing her boots. She reached up to check her bandage. Still in place and mostly clean. _I’ll change it in the morning._ She realized she hadn’t eaten in a while and pulled a tato from her bag. She took a bite out of it, but didn’t have much of an appetite surprisingly.

“Glad you figured the bed out. I forgot to give you the antibiotics earlier.” When Scarlett looked up her eyes widened a bit and she quickly shoved the rest of the tato in her mouth. John walked into the room shirtless and wearing a pair of shorts. She straightened her boots, looking for other things to focus on. He stopped about a foot away from her, held out the pill bottle, and shook it.

“Thanks,” Scarlett tried not to look at him as she took the bottle. She’d only been with one other person since Nate. John’s laidback attitude about being half-naked was throwing her off. Her old world sensibilities were telling her to avert her eyes or flee, but she knew sexuality and nudity were more commonplace in the wasteland.

 _He’s just ready for bed… this is normal… s’all good… don’t blush… everything’s fine._ The words ran through her head like a mantra. Scar quickly tucked the bottle away in her bag and began to inventory her possessions. She hoped John would go back into his room. He didn’t.

“You should do that in the morning.” He suggested critically.

“Why?” She began pulling items from her bag and organizing them into neat piles. Excess ammo. Excess explosives. Excess apparel. Et cetera.

“You needa get some rest.”  He answered.

“Are you really telling me it’s my bedtime?” Scarlett stilled, but didn’t look up.

“Trying to stick to the doctor’s orders.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Scarlett looked up then and silently cursed herself for not standing first. From where she was sitting, she was eye level with his hips.

She dragged her eyes up past the triangular patch of blonde hair stretching from his shorts to his navel. Her gaze met his. John was smirking down at her, amusement glittering bright in his eyes. Scar got the feeling he was very aware of her reaction to him, and was enjoying the hell out of it. _Smug bastard._

“You seem… edgey,” he arched a brow at her.

“No, just... distracted,” she began shoving things back into her bag with jerky movements. John hummed in acknowledgement. Scarlett finished repacking and slapped the top of her bag upon finishing. When she looked up, he was eyeing the bed. His gaze slid back to her.

“Anything I can do to… help you relax?” He said suggestively.

“No,” she replied, perhaps a bit too sharp and a bit too quick, “nothing, I’m… I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Nothing? Hm. You’re a bit shy aren’t ya?” His grin widened, “If you want something… all ya gotta do is ask.”

“John… I don’t wanna have this conversation,” she blew out a large puff of air.

“…And what conversation is that? I was gonna offer a pillow,” he raised his hands along with his brows and began to walk backwards outta the room, “but apparently you’re fine.”

“Wait!” he stopped, “that …that actually would be nice.” Scarlett was definitely blushing now. He chuckled and disappeared into his room for a moment before reappearing with the aforementioned pillow. He held it out to her. Scarlett took it without meeting his eyes, her face as red as her namesake.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed...” She sighed.

“Don’t gotta apologize,” he answered, “I hope staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable...” That got her attention. Scarlett looked up. His eyes had softened.

“Look… I know I gotta reputation. I won’t lie and say I ain’t interested... but I can’t figure you out.” He sat down next to her on the bed, this time with a bit more distance between them.

“John… you’re a good guy. I just… well,” Scar dropped her eyes to her hands, “It’s complicated.”

“Is it because of Hancock? I don’t wanna pry, but you mentioned him earlier,” his forehead creased.

“Wow…” Scarlett laughed at the irony of it all. _It’s not because I’m with Hancock… which I’m sure is what he means, but it is because of Hancock. Well, because he IS Hancock… goddamn time travel is harrowing._ John looked perturbed by her response.

“I’m gonna give you the most honest answer I can. I’m not gonna be around very long. As soon as I get what I need from Amari… I’m gone. I don’t wanna complicate things further.” She rubbed the back of her neck.

“So… just to be clear, I’m the complication here right?” Scarlett bit her lip at his words. He nodded his head, stood up suddenly, and walked towards his room.

“John…” He paused in the doorway. Her voice was heavy with remorse, but she couldn’t come up with anything that would make it better while still being truthful.

“Thank you… for everything,” she said lamely. He nodded.

“Sweet dreams Patches.” He patted the doorframe and disappeared into the bedroom. Scarlett sighed sullenly and unplugged the lights before curling up with the blanket and pillow. She tried not to think about how much they smelled like him.

In the morning, John helped Scarlett change the bandage around her head. He was unusually quiet. They shared a small meal and made their way to Valentine’s. Irma was already there when they arrived.

“Hey John. Kidd. Glad you both made it.” Valentine dipped his head at them and Irma smiled.

“Good to see you both as well.” Scarlett returned the smile.

“So, what’s the word today?” John asked.

“Well, decided to take your advice. I’m gonna buy a bed. Would appreciate some help moving it in. Then Irma could stay here.” Valentine lit up a cigarette and took a drag.

“We’re gonna wait till nightfall to purchase the bed from Percy since Myrna ain’t too fond of me,” he explained.

“She still gives you a hard time? Didn’t you help her find parts for Percy in your handyman days too?” John shook his head.

“Can’t win ‘em all.” Valentine shrugged.

“I’d like to sell my extra goods at the market today since I’m feelin’ a bit better,” Scarlett supplied.

“Good to get some caps on ya,” he nodded in approval. John gave her a lingering look that was markedly blank. _Why am I having such a hard time reading people lately?_

“I’m also gonna go back to Goodneighbor as soon as I’m healed,” she added. That got Irma’s attention.

“I’d like to go back with you and make sure Amari is okay,” she looked at Scar hopefully.

“You’re safer here right now… Amari is probably safer on her own too. As long as she can work the memory loungers, she can keep making caps for Vic. He won’t jeopardize that, but as soon as you return he has leverage against her.” Scarlett shook her head. Irma scoffed and said something under her breath, but made no attempt to argue.

“Alright, you two go do your thing. We’ll see ya back here later tonight.” Valentine dragged on his cigarette again. Scarlett nodded and the two said their goodbyes before exiting. Scarlett turned toward the market, but John stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Patches, don’t worry about gettin’ a room at the Dugout. Just stay with me ‘til you go. Save your caps,” he released her when she turned to face him.

“You said one night originally. I don’t wanna intrude.” Scarlett shifted feet.

“S’alright, I don’t mind,” John waved her off, “Kind of nice having someone around.”

“Well… thanks. I’m still going to the market. You need anything?” She asked. He shook his head.

“Naw, just take care of yourself. I’ll see ya later.” With that, he turned and walked away. Scar made her way down to Diamond City Surplus and sold all the goods she’d separated from her stuff last night. When she turned around to head back, she noticed an older ghoul man being harassed at Power Noodles.

“Get outta here before your rot spreads to the food shuffler!” the snarling citizen shoved the ghoul off his seat. The bowl of noodles spilled on him when he fell. He looked petrified.

“Leave him alone!” Scar jogged forward, hand on the hilt of her knife. The citizen sneered upon scanning her form and seeing the scars and dilated pupil.

“What, ya becomin’ a zombie yourself? Can’t wait till y’all are thrown out to the ruins where ya belong!”  Scar’s hand itched to pull her knife, but she knew she’d only get away with it in self-defense. The asshole citizen walked off muttering slurs under his breath. She made sure he rounded the corner before turning to the ghoul on the ground. Scar offered a hand and helped him up. He had a cut on his cheek from the fall and wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“Here, take some caps and get a new bowl,” she offered. The ghoul just shook his head and mumbled his thanks before fleeing the market. Scar put her cap-sack away with a heavy sigh. _It’s only going to get worse…_ When she arrived back at John’s shack, he wasn’t there. She plopped onto her makeshift bed and started to drift off.

* * *

_“So that’s it?! I care about you Hancock, you’re my friend! …I won’t leave until you speak to me about this,” she beseeched._

_Hancock sat with his legs splayed out and arms across the back of one of the red couches in his office. A slinky blonde was pressed against his side, hands digging through his coat pockets. She was too high and distracted to pay any attention to their conversation._

_Scar was attempting to have a heart-to-heart after their run in with Mayor McDonough in Diamond City. John had fled from the altercation upon learning his brother had been replaced by a synth. He was continuing to run from his feelings in his usual fashion._

_“What’s there to say? My brother’s been dead for years; replaced by Institute scum… I don’t even get the chance to avenge him thanks to your bloodthirsty efforts,” he rasped. ‘Ouch, he knows that’s a sore subject for me… probably trying to scare me off.’_

_“You’re one to talk… you stabbed a guy the first day I met you!” She argued and threw her arms up dramatically. His hand wandered down the blonde’s back, his eyes fixed on Scar. ‘I swear he’s trying to antagonize me’._

_“Well it is my town,” Hancock shot back, “and I think it’s time I tended to my town again.” He squeezed her rear and the woman giggled. Scarlett gaped at him in disbelief._

_“I thought… don’t you wanna help the Commonwealth?” She blinked away the stinging sensation in her eyes and clenched her fists. She could ignore him fondling the blonde in front of her. They weren’t dating, so she had no reason to be miffed. His backhanded comment on how she took down the Institute got to her, but his disregard for their common (wealth) cause was the last straw… she was losing her patience._

_“It’s not going anywhere.” He turned to the blonde in his lap once she’d finally weaseled the jet inhaler from his pocket. He snatched it from her after she’d taken a hit. Hancock shook it and took a puff as well._

_“The Commonwealth is ALWAYS going somewhere. It’s YOU who wants no part in where it’s going right now!” Scarlett shook her head vehemently._

_“Yeah, the only place I’m interested in going is the chem dealer,” he jeered and tossed the emptied Jet on the table. Scarlett scoffed in response. John chuckled bitterly and lit a cigarette. She finally snapped._

_“Maybe I was wrong when I called you a diamond before… you’re not strong. You may be sharp and knapped to razor’s edge, but you’re brittle. You’re obsidian Hancock. Lethal, but weak.” Hot tears slid down her cheeks and she looked away, “I hope you find your way and point your blade in the right direction.”_

_“Yeah, thanks for comparing me to a rock again… good as dirt right?” He mumbled._

_“Actually, it’s because dirt and rocks are the foundations of growth and life... Just like we’re the foundations of the future… At this point though, it's 'cause I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.” She countered and stepped out the door, slamming it behind her. Scar stopped and pressed her forehead against the wall hoping to collect herself a bit before descending the stairs._

* * *

Scarlett woke with a start when John stumbled into the small house. She rubbed at her head, annoyed by the dull aching she felt. She grabbed her Pip-Boy to check the time and cursed silently. It was 9:13pm. _I hope Valentine hasn’t already moved the bed in without us._

John was in the kitchen pulling out his chem stash. He swore when he only found a mostly-empty tin of mentats. He popped the last of them and began rummaging through the other cabinets and drawers. He gave up in the kitchen and headed into the bedroom. Scarlett heard more drawers being pulled open.

 _What the hell is he looking for?_ She followed him to the doorway. He began ripping what little clothing he had out of the dresser and dumping it on his bed.

“We gotta get over to Valentine’s.” John jumped when she spoke.

“Forgot you were here,” he replied without looking at her, returning to his search. When he opened the bottom drawer, it revealed a whiskey bottle about 1/3 of the way full and a jet canister. He grabbed the jet, gave it a shake, held it to his mouth, and inhaled as he compressed it.

“John?” Scarlett decided to try again, “Did you hear what I said?” John slouched down onto his bed with a heavy exhale. He didn’t respond.

“Are you okay?” She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he knocked her wrist away.

“Don’t… just leave me alone,” he rubbed his forehead.

“John,” she said worriedly.

“Oh, like you even give a fuck! You’ll be gone as fast as you showed up.” She looked down at her boots and shifted feet.

“I’m gonna head over there. I’ll see ya later,” she moved to go and left John in the dark. He didn’t follow. Scarlett arrived at Nick’s just as he arrived out front with the bed.

“Hey Kiddo, good timing. Where’s Johnny?” He set the bed down and leaned against the frame.

“He’s… dealing with his own demons right now,” Scarlett shook her head and shifted her bag on her shoulder, “I’m happy to help though.”

“As long as ya don’t bang up the walls like Vic banged up your head! This shack is bad enough already,” he joked. The way he brushed off her news on John seemed to imply the behavior was downright predictable. Scarlett didn't comment, she just grabbed the back of the frame while Valentine grabbed the front. They turned it sideways and shuffled down the hallway, taking breaks as often as Scar needed them.

Once the bed was in place the two shared a cigarette. Scarlett said her goodbyes for the evening shortly after. She wasn’t feeling chatty and definitely wasn't ready to go back and face John again, so she took a stroll around the town. She smiled when she saw Sheffield and gave him her last Nuka-Cola. _I wish I could do more to help him in the future…_

She turned around and considered getting a room at the Dugout after all. That's when she noticed a man leaning against a wall in the shadows watching her. She pretended not to notice and turned to take an alternate route. She heard footsteps following. Her hand dropped to the hilt of her knife. _Almost there, the Dugout is just around the corner…_

“Patches, hold up!” She froze and closed her eyes with relief before tensing up again.

“Why are you following me John?” She didn’t turn to face him.

“I wanted to apologize – “ he started, but Scar cut him off.

“It’s okay – “ now John cut her off.

“NO! It’s really not,” He stepped towards her, “Please, just lemme say this.” Scar waited. He took a few more steps forward until he was right behind her.

“I said what I said ‘cause… well, you kinda scare the shit outta me.” John let out a sharp breath and gave a small nervous laugh. Scarlett turned around to face him, confusion plain on her face.

“Look, I had just gotten chewed out by Wiseman for not doing more for the ghouls. For not doing more to stop my brother… I came home to disappear for a bit. The jet helps me slip away, but then you were there…” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“John – “ She wanted to stop him, but he cut her off again.

“Just, lemme finish… I snapped on you. It wasn’t your fault, I just wanted to get you outta my space. Which is stupid ‘cause when you’re gone,” he broke off here. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.

“You inspire me… I care about folk, sure. But I don’t often put my neck out for ‘em. I do what I can, but I’ve gotten a bit jaded about it. Then I met you,” he reached out to her, but let his hand drop when she took a step back. Scarlett felt her chest being gripped by some invisible force.

“Makes sense you want nothin’ to do with me,” he smirked wistfully and looked down at his hands, “I ain’t ever met anyone like you. Whether I want to or not, I care about ya and it’s eating me up. I just wanna help.” He looked up and his eyes bore into hers. The weight in her chest was crushing.

“I know you do. I’m just…” Scarlett sighed, “…trying to keep my distance.”

“Why?" He asked simply.

“Because I care too and I shouldn’t. I’m not even s’pposed to be here. That’s why I can’t do… this,” she said obscurely. John took another step closer. She was painfully aware of him in her personal space. She bit her lip.

 “I don’t understand. Where are you s’pposed to be? In a vault? Talk to me Patches,” he reached for her hand. Scar dodged him, pulling away slightly.

“This is a bad idea. If our friendship continues like this, one of us will end up hurt. Or both of us.” She tried to step around him, but he blocked her path.

“I already told you my stance on bad ideas. Why are you running from me again? Tell me the truth… what’s really stopping you?” Scar stepped back and bumped into the wall of the building behind her.

“John, please,” to her dismay, the words came out softer and lower than she’d intended. _Oh geeze, real convincing Scarlett…_ Her protest caught in her throat. Scar’s mind shrieked at her, but her heart and body wouldn’t listen. She felt betrayed by her own reaction to the heat of him mere inches from her.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” He leaned closer pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “I promise.” His hand brushed down from her ear along her jaw. Scarlett’s gaze lingered on his and she swallowed thickly. He heatedly watched her throat work and his touch was tender when he caught her chin between his thumb and index finger. Her lips parted to speak, but her traitorous mouth wouldn’t form the words she meant to say. John’s eyes dropped to her lips intently before he dragged them back up to hers. He ran his thumb across her lower lip and she shivered. His other arm came up and braced against the wall next to her head. _C’mon Scarlett, say something! Think of baseball!_

“J-John,” She finally managed to stammer out, a bit more firmly this time despite the stutter. Her hand came up and pressed lightly against his shoulder, as if to push him away, but she applied no pressure.

“Yeah?” His breath ghosted warmly over her face. She could almost taste him. Almost. _You can do better than baseball… um, Deathclaws prowling in a radstorm! Say something dammit!_ Instead, she became unexpectedly overwhelmed by his smell.The familiar aroma of cigarettes, dust, sweat, and heady chemicals permeated him in the same way they would in the future. Yet, underneath that, the smell she’d come to associate with being uniquely Hancock was absent and replaced by something less musky and almost sweet by comparison. Scar drew in a deep breath, savoring the minute difference before she realized what she was doing. She flushed as it struck her that he was close enough to hear her do so. A small shudder passed over him at her reaction and the arm he had braced beside her head slid closer. His fingertips ran through the ends of her hair. His other hand still delicately held her chin.

“Just one word. Say it and I’ll back off…” He breathed as he leaned in. Scarlett said nothing. Her heart hammered in her chest as he pressed his lips to hers. The line of his body followed and his hand in her hair slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. Her skin prickled at his touch and her last shred of restraint snapped as she relaxed into him. He pressed against her more firmly, pushing her into the wall at her back. His tongue ran over her lower lip and teased her mouth open. A soft involuntary whimper escaped her when the kiss deepened. Scar closed her eyes, lost in the moment. Heat blossomed through her. _Why is he so damn good at this?_ Her hand had moved up to cup his jaw while the other fisted in his shirt. The hand at her chin stroked from her jaw, down her neck and side before it stopped to grip her waist. Scarlett instinctively arched into him and he groaned into her mouth as she clung to him. They were both gasping when she finally broke the kiss and turned her head to the side with her cheek pressed against his. She rubbed her face against his stubble. _You’re not a cat with cream! Cream doesn’t even exist anymore! You’re 240… er… 234 years old? Doesn’t matter, it’s wrong! Getta grip!_

“This needs to stop.“ Scar whispered against his ear, resisting the urge to nip at it.  She opened her eyes again. John’s shoulders slumped slightly. He drew in a shaky breath accompanied by a single nod. She was still taking quick shallow breaths. Her breasts rose and fell, pressed against his chest. He trembled slightly.

“Fuck… I didn’t mean to take it that far. I’m sorry Patches…” He trailed off and turned his head to press his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes. Scar nodded, knowing he’d feel it. She was still trying to get her breathing under control so she could respond properly.

“It’s okay… you gave me plenty of opportunities to stop you.” She replied huskily. John shook his head as he tore himself away. She could see the guilt and disappointment plain on his face as he bit his lip. 

“This is exactly what I was worried about though,” Scar said quietly.

“Right. I shouldn’t have done that. I just… I’ve been wanting to for a while. Got carried away is all,” he rubbed the back of his neck with a frustrated sigh.

“John… I should be the one apologizing,” she reached out to stroke his cheek and he leaned into her hand. It reminded her of Hancock when she first time traveled.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not the right time for this. I’ll be leaving soon,” Scar tried to explain again as she dropped her hand. John shook his head again.

“Will there be a right time, or was this a one-time thing?” He asked. Scarlett couldn’t tell whether he sounded hopeful or bitter. Maybe both.

“I’m not really sure, the future is somewhat of a mystery.” She looked down at her boots.

“Just like you,” he pinched her cheek and she wrinkled her nose.

“Knew I wouldn’t get a straight answer from ya, but it was worth a try.” John cleared his throat and took another step back. Scarlett tried to ignore the throbbing ache in her chest that had nothing to do with the time travel side effects.

She wanted to say something more, but nothing seemed appropriate. She couldn’t tell what she was feeling for John McDonough or John Hancock anymore. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to know. _And what about Nate? Aren’t him and Shaun why you started this whole time travel mess?_

“I know you were going to the Dugout, but please just stay at my place,” John held his hands up, "promise I won’t try anything… unless you want me to.” He dropped his hands and grinned crookedly with a wink. Scarlett shook her head.

“Fine. Let’s go.” They walked back towards his house, John stealing glances at her and Scarlett coyly pretending she wasn’t doing the same. _I'm so fucked..._


	16. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity*
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read/followed along, left kudos, and special thanks to the commenters! It all brings a smile to my face and inspires me to keep going! <3

The next morning Scarlett woke before John. She wasn’t surprised since she had gone to bed before him. The soft sound of music playing from a radio reached her ears from beyond the closed door and the muffled tunes had lulled her to sleep. Now, she was up in the kitchen making a large mirelurk egg omelet. She’d added a silt bean to it and roasted a gourd as a side. _I hope these eggs are still okay… maybe the radiation keeps them fresh longer?_

“Wasteland cuisine. Let’s hope it tastes better than it smells,” she said as John came out into the living room sniffing the air curiously.

“I’ve smelled worse.” He rubbed his eyes with a lazy smile and sat down on the couch.

“Yeah, that’ll happen when you don’t take baths regularly,” she snarked. John narrowed his eyes.

“Not what I meant… and I bathed… several days ago I’ll have ya know.” Scarlett tried to stifle a laugh. _Is that supposed to be impressive? Actually, I guess it is for wasteland hygiene._

“Speaking of which, do you have any towels? I’d like to use your tub after this… I could use a bath myself.” Scar plated up breakfast and placed it on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch.

“Yeah… admittedly not the cleanest towel, but it’ll get ya dry.” He picked up one of the plates and began eating. Scarlett nodded with a mouth full of food. They cleared their plates pretty fast. There were no mmm’s or ahhh’s, but neither complained.

Scar gathered a change of clothes upon finishing. She stuffed her soap bar into her pocket and grabbed her hairbrush, then headed into John’s room.

“Towel please?” He pulled one from his dresser and wordlessly handed it to her. Scar looked at the bathroom and back at John sitting a couple feet away from the door on his bed.

“Oh… right, I’ll be in the living room.” He slipped out and Scarlett sighed in relief. She walked into the bathroom and began filling the tub. She brushed her hair while she waited for it to fill and then bathed quickly.

Scar walked back out fully clothed and toweling her hair dry. John sat on the couch with his eyes open, but unseeing. He rubbed his forehead absently with one hand while a cigarette smoldered in the other.

“So, what’re the plans for today?” She asked, making him jump.

“Wiseman wanted me to lend a hand down at the shelter… It’s that or drag my niece into town to expose my brother, but I’d rather keep her outta the political spotlight.” He took a pull from his cigarette and exhaled a small cloud of smoke. Scar blinked. _Oh my god… no wonder John gets a guilt complex later. He coulda used his niece to foil his brother’s campaign._

“Is that what you meant when you said he chewed you out yesterday? Does he know about her?” Scarlett’s brows drew downward.

“Naw, only you n’ Nick. He figured my brother had some skeletons in his closet somewhere and I’d be the one to know about ‘em.” John gave a dismal shrug. “He’s not wrong, I just don’t think it’s fair to the kid. She just turned 15 this month. Being a teen in the wasteland is hard enough.”

“Well, I’d be happy to lend a hand at the shelter. What do they need done?” Scar asked and sat down next to him. John looked up in thought as she began to re-bandage the back of her head.

“A bunch of cloth and food was donated recently. Wiseman mentioned wanting to stitch some clothes and blankets from the cloth. He also wanted to pull together some bags with rations in case the election rids the shelter of its ghoul residents.” He said the last part disdainfully and ground out his cigarette in the ashtray. “We’re hoping for the best, but it’s good to be prepared.”

“I’m ready when you are.” Scarlett replied as she finished securing the bandage. John nodded and rose from the sofa.

“I’d kill for some ‘tats right now.” He rubbed his forehead again with a pained expression. Scarlett hesitated before grabbing her bag with a sigh. She rummaged through it and tossed him a tin. He caught it with a startled expression before looking back at her with a question in his eyes.

“I forgot to sell the extra chems I looted on the way back here from Goodneighbor.” She closed her bag up again. “You can have ‘em as a thank you for letting me stay with you.”

“Thanks doll.” John tilted his head with a small quirk of lips.

“No problem… I’ll give you the rest later tonight. If I’d known you were running low I would’ve offered earlier.” She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied, stepping toward the door and opening it.

“Ask and you shall receive.” Scarlett smirked and moved to follow him. She almost ran into him when he stopped suddenly.

“…So if I ask you for another kiss?” He turned and centered himself in the opening, his arms braced on either side of the doorway. Scar snorted and pushed against his chest with one arm, intending to shove him outside. He tightened his grip on the doorframe with a playful grin. She narrowed her eyes and went to use both arms to force him out when he abruptly released the frame and stepped backwards.

“Dammit John!” She stumbled into him and he wrapped his arms around her with a self-satisfied throaty chuckle.

“Lemme go you trickster!” She struggled against him. John kissed the top of her head and released her. Scarlett straightened her clothes with a flush and glared at him. His grin widened.

“C’mon Patches, let’s go.” He turned away from her and began walking. Scar huffed and crossed her arms with a grumble before following along. She started smiling halfway there despite herself.

When they arrived at the shelter, they found Wiseman cleaning the dishes from breakfast and packing up the leftover food.

“John! Glad you came back… thought I might’ve scared you off yesterday.” He grabbed a rag to dry his hands and his eyes scanned Scarlett.

“I remember you… met you in the ruins by Goodneighbor recently right?” He asked with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, I’m Scarlett Kidd. Scar for short… Sorry I didn’t introduce myself when we first met. I was in a bit of a hurry.” She tried not to blush again upon remembering the circumstances of their last encounter.

“Water under the bridge.” He waved her off. “Nice to officially meetchya. You two here to help out?” They both looked at each other and nodded. Wiseman smiled.

“Good! We could use the extra hands… you both know how to sew?” He motioned for them to follow him as he walked into the large makeshift building full of beds. He unlocked a back storage room.

“Not well, but I can mend things.” John answered honestly. Wiseman didn’t look impressed.

“I used to sew all the time. I can make just about anything.” Scarlett replied. He perked up at that.

“Well, I guess you’ll be working with me today. John, why don’t you go help Thandie organize the packaged food into ration bags.” John nodded. “She’s in the kitchen. She’ll show ya where the bags are.”

“Scarlett, come with me.” They entered the storage room.

“I’ve got rolls of fabric and I’ve got swatches. We’re stitching the swatches into quilts and using the rolls to make clothing. Any leftover fabric from the rolls will make additional blankets or bags.” He explained as he pointed to the materials.

“Sounds simple enough. Do you have any particular patterns you’re using for the clothing?” She asked.

“Yeah, but let’s start with blankets for now. I’ll show you the patterns later.” He pocketed a few needles and a couple spools of thread before grabbing a bag full of fabric swatches. Scarlett grabbed a couple chairs and they headed back out into the main living area. Wiseman relocked the door to the storage room before they settled down. He handed her a needle and thread, then opened the bag of swatches.

They sewed in companionable silence for a while, but Wiseman eventually got curious.

“You from around here Scarlett? Don’t think I’ve seen ya before.” He asked casually while his fingers worked.

“I’m from an area close by, but relatively new to Diamond City.” She offered cautiously. Wiseman nodded.

“Whattaya think of it so far?” He asked, stealing a glance at her. Scarlett’s fingers were nimble. She hadn’t sewn anything in a long time, but the muscle memory as still there.

“To be honest, I think most of the citizens are assholes… I saw a man getting harassed down at Power Noodles just yesterday. There are some good folk here too, I just hate bigotry… this city clearly has a problem with it.” Scar replied heatedly. She didn’t look up or stop her work. Wiseman paused for a moment.

“Ahhh, Carson mentioned that to me yesterday. Came back here real flustered and said a lady with some odd scars helped him out. He musta been talking about you.” Wiseman resumed his work.

“I tried to buy him another bowl, but he refused… I wanted to make it up to him.” Scarlett shook her head.

“You can’t make up for a town full of prejudice with a bowl of noodles. Sweet of ya to offer, but Carson was spooked. He wanted to get back to folk who wouldn’t look at him wrong just for gettin’ a meal.” Wiseman answered. Scarlett bit her lip and nodded meekly.

“Speakin’ of meals, you and John already eat?” He questioned.

“Mhm. We had some mirelurk egg omelets. Not too bad, but woulda been better with some cheese.” She joked. Wiseman’s fingers paused for a moment before they picked back up where they’d left off.

“Personally, I miss having a cup of coffee with my breakfast.” He offered with a small smile. Scarlett practically groaned.

“One of the best smells in the morning!” She agreed. Wiseman hummed. They were both silent for a moment and Wiseman appeared to be thinking about something rather deeply.

“Where are you from exactly?” He asked tentatively. Scarlett’s hands stilled. She realized her mistake too late.

“Um…” She looked up and met Wiseman’s eyes. He was looking at her rather suspiciously now.

“Haven’t heard anyone mention cheese or coffee in a long time.” He lifted a scarred brow at her.

“Please don’t say anything to John…” Wiseman narrowed his eyes and Scar sighed, “I’m pre-war… I’m the sole survivor of a vault that was experimenting with cryogenic stasis pods.” She explained with downcast eyes. Wiseman’s eyes looked her over again, but he seemed to accept her answer.

“I won’t lie to him, but I ain’t a gossip either. As long as he doesn’t ask me, I won’t say anything.” He returned to stitching and Scarlett did too.

“That’s quite a story though… I’m a little more surprised now knowing you aren’t put off by ghouls.” He said conversationally. Scarlett was silent for a moment and she could tell Wiseman thought she wasn’t going to respond when she finally spoke up.

“Ferals really get to me, and I don’t just mean the smell…” Scar kept her eyes on her needlework, “At first it’d been easy to convince myself they were just monstrous radiation-driven husks,” she took a deep breath here, “but one day in Concord I ran into a group of them. One of them was wearing a gold locket, and I realized I’d known her… she used to work in the café I got my coffee at before going to the courthouse. Sweet girl, worked two jobs to help pay for her mother’s cancer treatment.” Scar’s hands had started shaking and she set down her needle and thread.

“I realized then if I hadn’t gone into the vault, I could’ve been one of them. Just a primal irradiated shell of my former self, mindlessly killing.” Scarlett looked down at her lap. “If our positions had been switched, I’d have wanted her to kill me… every time I kill a feral now, it feels a bit like mercy. They may not have a choice in who they kill, but I do and I owe them that much.” She looked up and met Wiseman’s eyes, his face distorted through the veil of her unshed tears.

“I kept her locket… didn’t want some raider trading it for a measly sum of caps. It’s my memento now… A reminder not to get cold feet around them.” Wiseman was quiet, but he gave her a solemn nod of approval. Scarlett resumed her sewing and the two sat in thoughtful silence before she decided to continue.

“Non-ferals I actually find quite impressive though. They’ve endured the ravaging metamorphic effects of radiation and survived everything the wasteland could throw at ‘em. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little envious y’all are healed by rads and immune to the charms of Muties and ferals. That’d really come in handy,” she gave a tiny smile before adding, “But I understand it ain’t easy or ideal.”

“It’s amazing what 200 hundred years does for one’s perspective huh? Refreshing to talk to someone around my age.” Wiseman chuckled and shook his head.

They chatted quietly about all manner of things and Scarlett had to admit it felt good not to hide herself from someone. Wiseman didn’t ask about her scars, so she didn’t have to avoid mentioning her recent time travel endeavors. They each had completed several blankets by the late afternoon.

“Why don’t you take a break and grab some water from the kitchen. You can check on John and see how much progress him and Thandie have made.” Wiseman gathered the blankets and went to deposit them in the storage room. Scarlett headed off toward the kitchen at a leisurely stroll.

She pushed through the kitchen door, but didn’t see anyone. She made for the back room where she assumed the food storage and refrigerators were. She heard hushed voices as she approached. Scar briskly opened the door and froze.

John was laying with his back on a table, his legs dangling over the edge. A young woman straddled his lap and was kissing his neck feverishly. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled. Scarlett couldn’t see much from where she stood (not that she wanted to), but she could see the girls arms working at getting his pants open. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs and disappeared under her skirt. She gave a choked moan and it snapped Scarlett out of her shock.

The door clicked shut behind her and the sound drew John’s attention. Scarlett began backing up with her hands raised.

“I – I was just getting some water and checking on your progress with the rations!” She bumped into the wall behind her. Scarlett didn’t know what to make of the flurry of emotions that crossed over John’s face and she didn’t care to stay and figure it out. She corrected her path and bolted from the back room. She almost ran into Wiseman in the kitchen.

“Hey, they almost done in there?” He asked, forehead creased when he noticed how flustered she looked.

“Um… you might wanna give them a moment.” Scarlett muttered and left the room. She ran outside and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it up and leaned against a wall. _Typical John. He and Hancock are so the same person… I have no right to be upset. It’s totally natural. We’re not dating, it was just a kiss… stop thinking about it!_

A couple minutes later John came outside and looked around. He noticed Scarlett leaning against the wall and made his way over to her.

“Hey… uh, sorry about that. I – “ Scarlett cut him off.

“No worries! Sorry I interrupted. Didn’t realize you were…busy.” She looked out at the small crop field nearby. He rubbed his shoulder looking somewhat at a loss for words, then pulled out a cigarette of his own. Scar suddenly lost interest in hers and put it out in an ashtray on a nearby picnic table. She forced a smile and walked back inside. She found Wiseman in the kitchen talking to the girl John had been with. _This must be Thandie._

“Hey Weissman, want me to start on some clothing or should I keep doing blankets?” She asked, carefully avoiding eye contact with the girl beside him.

“Actually since it’s almost 5pm, I’m gonna start up on dinner for everyone. You and John are good to go. Thanks for your help today!” He said warmly.

“Happy to help.” She grabbed her bag before heading out. John was about to walk back in as she stepped outside.

“Weissman said we can get going since he’s starting dinner for everyone.” Scarlett shifted feet and started to walk away. John jogged to catch up with her.

“You wanna grab a bite here?” He motioned back at the shelter.

“Nope! I’m just gonna make something at your place if that’s okay? If you wanna stay and have dinner with Thandie that’s fine.” She kept her tone light and pace steady. _I am determined to be cool about this… it’s honestly better if John distracts himself with other women._

“Of course that’s fine… I’d prefer your cooking to Wiseman’s though. It ain’t exactly his specialty.” He kept pace with her. _Huh… he didn’t even acknowledge my comment about Thandie. Odd._

“Ain’t exactly mine either. I’m not making anything fancy.” Scarlett said nonchalantly.

“Doesn’t gotta be.” He answered. They walked in silence for the rest of the way back. Scarlett tossed her bag down and plopped on the couch when they got inside. John went into his room and hung up his jacket. He came back out into the living room and sat next to her on the couch. Scarlett reached over and pulled the small sack of chems she’d acquired from her knapsack and tossed it on the table.

“Bon appetit.” She gestured to the chems.

“What?” John looked perplexed.

“Oh, right… It’s French and basically means enjoy your meal.” Scar replied and leaned against the armrest.

“Was this what you had in mind for dinner?” He cocked a blonde brow at her.

“No, but I’ve kinda lost my appetite.” She sat up suddenly. Her arm reached down to dig in her bag and she pulled out the remainder of the whiskey she’d purchased in Goodneighbor.

“Um… what are you doing?” Scarlett stopped unscrewing the cap at his question.

“Hydrating.” Her voice dripped sarcasm and she resumed unscrewing it. John grabbed the bottle from her.

“Hey! – “ She began to protest but he cut her off.

“You’re on antibiotics, so you can’t drink… what’s up with you?” He screwed the top back on the bottle and set it on the coffee table.

“Nothing.” She said flatly.

“Yeah, I’ll believe that when the Super Mutants and the Brotherhood hug it out.” He jabbed. Scarlett rolled her eyes.

“Y’know, you’ve been kinda tense since…” John quieted and looked at her funny, “Wait… you’re not jealous are ya?”

“What?! Noooo.” Scar waved her hands back and forth, “You can do whatever… or _whoever_ you want.” She snipped with emphasis.

“Holy Atom,” He laughed, which only stoked her foul mood, “You’re the one who suggested the ‘just friends’ route!”

“Yeah, and I intend to keep it that way.” She crossed her arms. John snorted.

“Then why are you upset with me?” His tone sounded both amused and frustrated.

“I’m not upset with you! I’m just… upset with myself okay? Can we just drop it?” Her anger leaked away slightly with the words. John watched her deflate.

“Fine… I’ll leave it.” He finally said. Scarlett stood and grabbed a few cans of Pork n’ Beans and Instamash from her bag. She walked into the kitchen and began to heat the food. John got up and grabbed the chem sack. He deposited them into his stash box before proceeding to help her in plating up the food.

They both returned to the couch again and ate in silence. Upon finishing, Scarlett grabbed her Pip-Boy and flipped it to the radio before setting it down on the table. She sat back down on the couch content. John walked into his room and came back out with a combat knife and a leather belt. He sunk back onto the cushions and secured one end of the belt beneath his boot before pulling the strip taut with his hand. His other hand lined up the blade’s edge. He pushed the blade down the length of the belt.

“…You use a strop?” Scarlett’s eyes followed his movement as he deftly flipped the blade and pulled it back up the length of the belt.

“Hm. Didn’t know it was called a strop. Pa’ taught me to do this after sharpening.” The blade glinted in the light as it was pushed and pulled along the leather _. Shick._ Scarlett bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly, attempting to push away the unbidden memories. She tried to focus on the music. _Shick._ Butcher Pete began to fade away. _Shick… goddammit…_

 _Shick._ Her father prepared the straight razor for his morning shave before his shower on the day she’d moved away. _Shick._ Nate sharpening his knife the day before he left for the war. _Shick._ The echo of a knife from a dark interrogation room.

“You okay doll?” John’s voice drew her out of her thoughts. She opened her eyes to find she’d scooted to the far end of the couch. Her knees were drawn up to her chest. She dropped her hands from her ears. The knife was stationary on his thigh. _Shick._ She swallowed thickly and turned her head away.

“…Would you mind doing that later?” She hated the tremble in her voice. John sheathed the knife with a troubled look of recognition.

“No problem,” He warily scooted closer to her, “…memories?”

“…Yeah...” She answered reluctantly.

“You… wanna talk about it?” He asked quietly.

“…No…” Her voice sounded far away.

“…Sometimes talking helps you move past it.” Scarlett didn’t say anything, just wrapped her arms around her legs. She felt a blanket being pulled around her gingerly.

“S’okay… no more strop.” He rubbed her shoulder through the blanket. Scar released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. They sat in awkward silence.

“…I’ll be in my room if you need anything.” He moved to get up. Scar reached out and grabbed his hand with a feather-light touch.

“Would you… stay out here for a bit longer?” John stilled and examined her before nodding. He sat back down on the couch. Scarlett wouldn’t look at him, but she scooted a little closer and briefly hesitated before leaning against his side.

“…Thank you.” She whispered. His arm wrapped around her shoulder a moment later. The even rhythm of his breaths calmed her and she slowly matched her breathing to his. She wasn't sure he'd heard her until he responded.

“Anytime Patches.” Her tension eased away and her eyelids got heavier as the sounds of the radio drifted back to her ears. _Whatta long day…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Scarlett has PTSD. No, it's not just from the Commonwealth wasteland.
> 
> Thandie and Carson will not be recurring characters, it just felt weird not to give them names.


	17. Drugs, Dishes, and Unfettered Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter... hope it doesn't feel too much like filler, but it would've been wayyy too long with the upcoming events.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone still reading! I have a roommate moving in, another story in the works, and college starting again.  
> Updates will likely take longer.
> 
> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity & Drug Use*

_Scarlett was kicking herself when she realized the stupid robot needed to be personally escorted from the Shamrock Taphouse all the way back to the Rexford. She considered just keeping it for herself at that point. However, a constant source of free cold beer was just too tempting._

_Scar had been avoiding Goodneighbor like the plague since her argument with Hancock. ’Seriously, a protectron should be able to walk itself there… although the Muties might have gotten it.’ As they approached the front gate she sighed and walked slightly ahead of the bumbling machine._

_‘…Alright, keep your head down, pop into the Rexford, and pop back out.’ She made it to the Hotel, dropped off Drinkin’ Buddy, then took a moment to revel in the ice-cold alcoholic reward. Upon finishing, she stepped outside and made haste toward the front gate._

_“I was hoping I’d get to see those legs again.” The gravelly voice sent chills down her spine. Scarlett froze in her tracks just past Kill or Be Killed. ‘So close to my escape… I should just keep going.’ She couldn’t bring herself to continue or turn around though. Instead she stood motionless, listening to the approaching sound of leather boots on worn brick._

_“Won’t see them for very long. I was just leaving.” She steeled herself and was about to take another step when he spoke up again._

_“Can I convince ya to stay a bit longer and hear me out? ‘Cause I’d like to see more of ‘em.” Hancock’s voice reached out to her and twisted her gut. Her immediate urge was to flee, but more than anything she wanted her friend back. As much as she hated admitting it, she’d missed the bastard._

_“Do you even flirt on purpose anymore, or is it just instinct?” She asked acerbically. Normally she would have found it endearing, but considering their last encounter, it kinda pissed her off._

_“Honestly? Bit of both. Right now I'm tryna apologize though…” He stopped just behind her. His response cooled her heated thoughts somewhat._

_“…I’m listening…” The hair on the back of her neck stood up under his gaze. He reached out and grabbed her forearm, turning her around to face him. His eyes searched hers before they dropped to his hand on her._

_“I’ve never been good at this…” Scar rolled her eyes and pulled her arm away from him._

_“’Kay, I’m gonna go… Next time pop some grape mentats first Mr. Mayor.” She turned away, but he stepped in front of her and held his hands up._

_“C'mon doll, lemme explain… please.” Scarlett paused. It was the ‘please’ that got her. She crossed her arms._

_“You didn’t deserve what I said to ya… I lashed out ‘cause I was hurtin’. It was petty and loathsome.” He took a shaky breath before continuing in a lower tone._

_“I’d been holding this grudge against my brother for years. Finding out he was a synth… I don’t even know if it was him or the Institute that was so despicable. I shoulda caught it sooner… I noticed him changing, but I can’t pinpoint when it happened. I was too chemmed up and angry.” He looked down at his boots, his scarred brow creased with shame._

_“I still kinda am. I thought I’d killed John McDonough when I took what made me into this,” He grabbed the lapels of his frock coat and held them open, gesturing to his ghoulish self, “turns out I was just runnin' again... but, I'm tired of runnin' and I ain't gonna run from you.” His gnarled hands dropped away from the fabric._

_“The truth is you deserve someone better than me at your side… I’m beginning to think Goodneighbor deserves someone better too.” He sounded so hopeless Scarlett took a step forward._

_“Well, I think Goodneighbor would agree you give a helluva speech…" she shook her head with a small smile, "and you make a damn good mayor.” His gaze remained lowered and she gripped his chin and lifted his face up tenderly. “There isn’t anyone else I’d prefer to have at my side... except maybe Dogmeat.” He returned her smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. She felt compelled to continue._

_“Synths were made by the Institute to be near perfect replicas. I thought the synth child they made was my son and didn’t recognize it until they shut it down before my eyes… It’s not your fault. Stop holding yourself accountable for their actions,” Hancock closed his eyes, “and don’t let them destroy you like they have so many others.” She finished and ended up feeling like the last words rang true for her too._

_He placed his hand over hers and lifted it up to cup his cheek. Scarlett brushed her fingertips over his mottled cheekbone and he leaned into her touch. Her eyes softened, but she suddenly became very aware of the setting of their conversation._

_“Hancock…” He opened his eyes again. For a moment she almost drowned in those black pools._

_“Yeah?” His breath heated her face with the scent of cigarettes and the tang of jet. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat._

_“…your fly is down.” She whispered softly. His brow furrowed and his gaze flicked downward. He grumbled and shook his head, releasing her hand to zip his pants with a quick flick of wrist._

* * *

 Scarlett woke drooling on John’s shoulder. The blanket was still wrapped around her when she sat up and rubbed at the crick in her neck. John was splayed out against her side with empty chem containers littered all around. She grabbed her Pip-Boy. _5:52am October 22, 2081_ … _I should really wake him and get him to sleep in his bed._ He still had a jet inhaler in his limp hand and her whiskey bottle sat empty on the coffee table.

“Hey, John…” She nudged at his shoulder. He didn’t move, but his breathing was rapid for someone who was asleep.

“John!” She shoved his shoulder a little harder, but it didn’t rouse him in the slightest. The Jet dropped out of his hand and landed on the floor. _Maybe I should just let him sleep it off…_ She checked his pulse. His heartbeat was irregular and his skin was clammy. _Dammit John… you better not have overdosed…_ She began to catalog the drugs he’d most likely taken and began to panic. _Psycho, Mentats, Jet, and whiskey…_

“JOHN!” She slapped him. His brow furrowed, but he didn’t get up. She slapped him again a little harder. He pursed his lips and scrunched his eyes. She raised her hand to slap him a third time when he waveringly raised his own in defense. He swatted at her and missed, then tried to roll away.

“Doll, I’m… kinky, but… easy on the rough stuff…” He grumbled. Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief.

“You should go sleep in your bed.” She suggested, but he was already out again. She stood up with a sigh and placed the blanket over him. Scar moved on to her bag where she acquired the last of her razorgrain and mutfruit. She had to smother a squeal when she found a dried hubflower and gourd blossom for tea. Then she went to the kitchen to go about making a breakfast porridge and hot water.

When John woke a little over an hour later, she was sitting on the far end of the couch. Her empty bowl was on the coffee table, a steaming cup of odd smelling water in her hand, and the Pip-Boy softly playing a song he'd never heard while she flipped through a magazine. The scene was oddly domestic and it bothered him how much he enjoyed waking up to it.

_"I love coffee, I love teaaa_

_I love a java jive and it loves me_

_coffee and tea, and the java and me_

_a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, boyyy"_

“Mornin’ kinkster.” She greeted him without looking up from the magazine. John groaned grumpily in response and rubbed at his head.

“Hey, I tried to tell ya to sleep in your bed… there’s some porridge and tea on the stove. Might help with the hangover.” She took a sip from her steamy mug and turned the page. John padded into the kitchen and happily spooned up a bowl of the porridge, but sniffed at the pot of tea suspiciously.

“You tryna poison me?” He cast a skeptical look in her direction. The music continued lilting pleasantly in the background. 

“Umm… more like hydrate you. It’s a blend of hot water, hubflower, and gourd blossom. Have you never had tea?” She looked up in amusement and set the magazine down open in her lap. John shook his head in response while cautiously pouring some into a mug then padded back to sit down next to her on the couch. He ate the porridge with mirth. Scar looked at him expectantly when he took a deep breath and slurped a mouthful of tea from his mug.

“This just tastes like dirty water.” He wrinkled his nose and brow then swallowed laboriously.

“First time I’ve seen you turn up your nose at something dirty…” She jibed under her breath. _Especially since you won’t have a nose to turn up later._

“Most dirty things I wet my mouth with taste better,” John slid a sidelong glance at her with a quirked brow and lips. Scarlett hoped she wasn’t blushing.

“Fine,” she pulled a single wild tarberry from her bag and squeezed it into his mug, “better?”

“Now it’s just dirty AND sweet…” he replied impishly after a tentative sip. Scar huffed and pulled up her magazine again, attempting to ignore him.

“Whattaya readin’ anyway?” He asked around sips from his mug. He could mock her all he wanted, but the tarberry improved the taste and the beverage was helping his headache.

“Live & Love. The issue is Talk Yourself Sober.” She replied passively and turned the page.

“Any advice worth sharing?” He set the mug on the coffee table.

“Eh, basic stuff… stay hydrated, eat, and sleep. Oh! There’s an interesting article in here about how oxytocin has been known to have sobering effects.” Scarlett looked up to find him with a puzzled expression.

“Nevermind… I’ll explain that one later maybe,” she dropped the magazine on the table, “actually, there was somethin’ else I wanted to ask ya…” she pulled absently on a stray thread at the seam of her shorts.

“Shoot Patches.” John kicked his feet up on the table.

“Well… have you considered asking your niece’s opinion on exposing your brother? I mean, I understand not wanting to drag her into it, but shouldn’t that be her decision…?” Scar gave one last tug on the string before looking up to see what John made of her question. He hesitated for a moment longer before replying.

“Yeah, it just didn’t seem like somethin' a kid should decide, but I s’ppose kids grow up fast in the wasteland.” He was back to rubbing his forehead.

“Especially with her circumstances…” Scarlett added.

“Honestly, I’ve just been trying to forget about the whole thing.” John sighed heavily and picked up the jet canister from the floor.

“Maybe you should try a different approach…” she warily eyed him fiddling with the inhaler, “we could go out into the ruins today and try to find her?” His hand stopped its motions.

“You and Wiseman just don’t give up…” John held the Jet up to his mouth, compressed it, and inhaled deeply.

“Fine," he puffed while still holding the hit, "it’s worth a try... You realize the election is tomorrow?” He exhaled his response.

“I know.” Scarlett looked down at her lap. She knew this was likely an exercise in futility, but decided she was willing to test whether the future was really set in stone. She was tired of feeling restless and restrained.  _The whole reason I came to the past was to stir up the future… sure I missed my target destination by 54 years, but maybe I need to stop tiptoeing around... I've done a real bang-up job on the secrecy approach anyway. Maybe Diamond City needs this. Maybe John needs this..._

“Alright,” John rose from the couch, “let’s get this show on the road.” The words felt strange and incomplete to hear. _Ah… I guess this ain’t quite a freakshow... yet._

“Sounds like a plan.” Scarlett grabbed her bag and followed him out into the streets. They’d worry about the dishes and drugs later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't pass up the opportunity for a nose pun.  
> Also, the song playing on the Pip-Boy is by The Ink Spots and it's called Java Jive.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iP6IUqrFHjw


	18. Advancing Pawns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity, Graphic Violence, Drug Use*
> 
> Well, this chapter took longer than I would've liked! Contributing factor: I recently watched the Nuka Break webseries, which is phenomenal, but one of the main characters is named Scarlett (call me Scar). Ouch. Almost made me wanna stop writing this story, but I've come too far and I plan on finishing. If any of you are fans of the show, I'm sorry I used the same name... I really had no idea when I started and the characters are completely unrelated. Still, I highly recommend watching the show if you haven't seen it. It's quirky, badass, and starts out cheesy, but the production value gets better.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it! Comments? Suggestions? Questions? Please lemme know!

John walked ahead, mumbling to himself in a harsh tone. He had insisted on walking in front. Her head wound was well on the way to recovery and the infection was gone as far as she could tell, but she let him lead considering he knew where they were going. He smacked his palm against his forehead. Scarlett didn’t break stride despite all the junk she was carrying. Her inner brows lifted and an unspoken question sat on the tip of her tongue. John spoke up before she could voice it.

“I shoulda started the day with Mentats, not Jet. We’re a little further south than I meant to take us…” He reprimanded.

“I was wondering why we passed that old high school… We’re just south of the Combat Zone now aren’t we?” Scar knew the answer, but she still had no idea where they were headed.

“Yeah and speaking of the school; I'm all for sharpenin' the killer instinct, but slaughtering the raiders was a lil unnecessary today," he answered.

“I haven’t passed through the area in a while. Wanted to see if certain things were still there,” she smirked and patted the newly acquired Fat Man on her back.

“…’certain things’ are a lil overkill if ya ask me,” he muttered.

“Are you referring to the launcher or the slaughter?” Scar asked.

“Both! That weapon is only gonna slow us down… it already has,” he shot back.

“I’m keeping pace! You’re just salty ‘cause you don’t have ‘tats.” John grumbled at her response, wiped his sweaty brow, and didn’t argue. Scarlett’s thoughts drifted back to the mysterious destination the duo were trudging towards, but this only brought further questions to mind. _Is she even going to be around? Will we make it back to Diamond City in time? Will it even make a difference if we do?_ They carried on through the ruins of cracked concrete and dust in silence for a while before Scar’s curiosity finally got the better of her.

“So… why a pull-out couch? Wouldn’t it have been easier to just get a second bed?” Scar settled on voicing the simplest question to cross her mind. John had proven to be handy as Hancock with his shotgun and knife combo. Not that it surprised her, but navigating the area with him was much easier than with Amari and Irma. It allowed a bit more leeway for conversation.

“My place is kinda small if you hadn’t noticed.” John called over his shoulder, “Having a second bed woulda looked strange in a bachelor pad. Even the pull-out couch made Wiseman suspicious.”

“How’d you convince him to help then?” She pushed.

“Alotta my guests take chems. I just told him I needed somethin’ for folk to crash on when they’re too strung out to consent to sharing a bed,” he answered with a shrug. Scarlett snorted.

“That’s decent of you… does it happen a lot?” She wasn’t sure why she was continuing this line of questions. _Curiosity killed the cat?_

“Naw, I generally get consent before I bring anyone over,” he replied. Scarlett blushed at the implication of the statement. _So… anyone who’s seen me going in and out of John’s place must think…_ The thought left her flustered and dashed any other questions she was going to ask.

“Y’okay Patches?” He stopped to identify the cause of her sudden silence.

“Fine…” Scar shook her head, “just realized Wiseman probably thinks we’ve been... sleeping together.”

“…would it bother you if he did?” John had turned and was looking at her with a very blank expression. Scarlett was at a loss for words. She opened her mouth and closed it again, looking for some clue on his face. _He either doesn’t want to influence my response, or he doesn’t want me to know how he feels about this…_ A sudden gunshot hit the pavement in front of Scar's foot followed by another on the light post next to her. John swore and shoved her behind a pile of rubble.

"I'll be back." He ran off without another word.

“Dammit John, I’m not a doll!” _Even though I let him call me that... all the time._ She pushed herself up and pulled out her scavenged combat rifle.

“And after we killed all those raiders together too…” When she peered around the rubble John was already gone. Two men lay dead and bleeding in the street.

“Overprotective sonovagun... at least Hancock knows better.” She could hear the crack of more bullets echoing from the corner of the building ahead. Scar was making her way to the edge of the structure when the wind carried a spine-tingling growl to her ears. She froze with a foot in mid-air. _That sounds large._ Scarlett distantly realized the gunshots had become more frantic. Screams began to fill the air. She lowered her boot cautiously. _I hope that isn’t what I think it is… and where the hell is John?_

She couldn’t hear the bark of his shotgun amid the chaos around the bend. Scar hunkered down between the rusted out frame of an old car and the edge of an alleyway feeling as torn as the sidewalk beneath her boots. _Should I wait for him to return, or try to find him? He said he'd be back, but he may need help. What if he comes back here looking for me and we miss each other?_ She had just decided to continue onward when she noticed the streets had gone silent as the grave.

Her eyes widened when her suspicions were confirmed by the sight of a scaly snout, amber yellow eyes, and lengthy talons. _Fuck! John has the grenades. I've got this shitty combat rifle…_ Scarlett instinctively began to backpedal and the Deathclaw started to turn in her direction. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist and a hand covered her mouth. She was yanked backwards into the alley and behind a dumpster.

John released her, pointed at the metal trash bin, and held his finger up to his lips to shush her. Scarlett nodded and watched intently as he lifted the lid and carefully slipped inside. _No-fucking-way… we’re going to hide from a Deathclaw in a dumpster?_ She began to shake her head, but swiftly followed upon hearing the approaching footsteps of the irradiated beast. Scar landed on top of John in a heap and immediately began to squirm away.

“What the hell?! You could’ve moved…” She hissed.

“Shhh.” His arms wrapped around her and his hand clamped over her mouth. The familiar rumbling growl only feet away stilled her scrambling efforts. Heavy footsteps prowled the alley back and forth. The sharp breathy echoes of its olfactory cavity could be heard while it attempted to sniff them out. _Maybe it's having a hard time smelling us through the oozy trashy smell._ Scarlett was fixated on the thin slice of light shining through the lowered dumpster lid and the shadow where the creature passed by.

The beam of light shone absent of any darker form and the clack of its large clawed feet retreated to the far end of the alley. Sweet silence met her ears again. John reluctantly loosened his hold on her and pulled his hand away from her face.

“You think it’s gone?” she whispered.

“No,” his breath was hot on her ear, “it’ll be back. We need to leave. You first.” He pushed lightly against her back, urging her up. Scarlett pulled herself into a crouch and gingerly lifted the lid. When she was satisfied the alley was empty, she motioned at John to follow. He didn’t move. Scarlett turned around to find him leisurely reclined in the bin with his eyes fixed on her rear.

“Really? Right now?” She straightened so she wasn’t bent over.

“No better time than now, s’why it’s called the present.” His eyes rose to hers unapologetically and a familiar rakish grin pulled his lips. Scar gave him a dirty look, but hid her smirk when she eased out of the dumpster and started off toward the end of the alley.

“Incorrigible,” she scoffed.

“Strength of character,” he reminded her as he hustled quietly to catch up.

“Still not very tactful or strategic with our circumstances,” she tutted.

“Seemed like the opportune moment to me. You were taking point, so I was… watching the rear.” He playfully explained. She rolled her eyes and picked up the pace. He was hot on her heels now and she could hear him chuckling softly behind her.

The two crept onward, salvaging anything of worth from the scattered corpses. They made it around the corner again. Blood spattered the streets and walls in the wake of carnage left from the fray. _This Deathclaw could've passed as a Pollock fan. Pickman would be proud... Where did it go anyway?_  John had found a chem stash next to a lookout and was pocketing the contents when Scar noticed a trunk pushed into the corner of a building up ahead. She had just begun to jog over to the entrance when she heard heavy scraping footfalls.

Out of her peripherals, she spotted the Deathclaw rounding the corner they had just come from. Scarlett ducked into the building and peered through the shattered window. The creature hadn’t spotted her yet, but it noticed John standing up ahead with his back turned. It slowly stalked towards him, saliva dripping from its open jaws _._

 _SHIT! No, no, no, no!_ Scarlett fumbled for an idea in near panic. _I can’t let that thing kill John!_ She narrowly avoided swinging the Fat Man into her face as she dropped her bag of tricks. _HA! Not so overkill now …Fuck, only one mini nuke… and John is too close! Need a diversion!_

Scar’s hand blindly dug through her bag and her legs carried her outside. John turned around to find the Deathclaw only feet away. His eyes darted to her jamming a holotape into the Pip-Boy as he began to raise his shotgun. She flipped the knob to the highest volume setting. The abrupt sound of jaunty piano keys blared out.

The Deathclaw spun around with a deep throaty screech. _That’s it baby… come to the Fat Man!_ Fats Domino echoed through the streets loud and proud. This time his vocals were a welcome distraction.

_“They calll, they calllll me the fat man!_

_‘Cause I weigh twooo hundred pounds!_

_“All the girlsss they love me,_

_‘Cause I know my way around!”_

_Really, this tape?! Life is such an ironic bitch._ Scarlett lifted the launcher up onto her shoulder. _Fats ain’t wrong though… this thing is hefty._ The Deathclaw snarled and charged her. She backpedaled, trying to angle the weapon efficiently while John dove out of the way.

The Deathclaw bounded at her, moving faster than she’d anticipated. Her eyes widened in terror as her hand pulled the trigger lever. THOUNK. She watched the mini nuke soar through the air. Scar couldn’t hear the music over the rush of adrenaline and surging blood in her ears. She couldn’t hear John shouting at her. She watched in slow motion as the bomb impacted the ground at the Deathclaw’s feet in a fiery ashen plume. The shockwave sent her flying. _Just like the mini nuke._

She didn’t feel herself hit the ground, but she did idly notice her Pip-Boy encased arm and the rubble next to her face. The music was discernable again, but it sounded far away and it was much closer to the end of the song than she expected.

_“I’m goin’, I’m goin’, goin’ away,_

_And I’m goin’, goin’ to stay,_

_‘Cause women and a bad life,_

_They’re carrying this soul away.”_

“Patches, stay with me. Keep those eyes open.” She felt the pinch of a stimpak in her neck. Tingling warmth spread outward from an injection to the bend in her elbow too. Her eyes fluttered, unfocused on the ground moving past them. The world around her stilled again. The rubble was gone, replaced by a dirty tile floor. Back inside a building she guessed. Fingers prodded her head, but Scar didn't grimace until they skimmed down and pressed into her sides.

“Lucky. You barely hit your head. Probably a couple cracked ribs though. Nothin’ a stim, some Med-Ex, and a rest can’t fix… Drink this.” John smoothed the hair out of her face and she felt water at her mouth. She swallowed painfully before giving a wet cough.

“Thatta girl.” Scarlett blinked blearily and slowly pushed herself up onto her elbows from where she was laying on the counter. She made eye contact with John, who was looking rather disheveled sitting beside her in a rusty chair.

“Okay… you were right. Definitely overkill,” she wheezed, “but the world is down another Deathclaw.”

“You really gotta be more careful.” His eyes were heavy with concern.

“Look who's talking...” She reclined back on the counter again and let out a sigh.

“I had my shotgun and grenades – “ he started, but Scar didn’t let him finish.

“Oh please! You were scouting for ‘tats and let it sneak up on you! You should be thanking me!” She huffed, and instantly regretted the jarring movement.

“I ain’t sayin’ I don’t appreciate what ya did… but next time, lemme take the hit for my own negligence ‘kay?” Scarlett didn’t answer, instead she tried not to wince when she sat up again and threw her legs over the edge of the counter top.

“If you can watch my rear, I can watch your back. Are we even close to… your niece?” She barely managed to stop herself from saying the girl’s name. John was too distracted to notice her pause though.

“Yeah, at least another half-mile.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You should stay here and wait for me.”

“John, I’m alri – “ He rose from his seat.

“You almost killed yourself with a mini nuke. Just stay and rest,” he blurted worriedly. Scar blinked in surprise. Indignation roiled her stomach.

“You're being over-dramatic... and you'd have died if I hadn’t, so I'm going,” she answered sharply.

“You don’t know that. I’ve made this trip alone more times than I can count.” _Well, so have I._ John’s face pinched and his eyes bore into hers when he stepped closer to the counter.

“Well, you’re not alone this time… and I didn’t like the odds.” Scar was losing steam, her anger quickly turning to guilt. _If the Deathclaw had killed him Vic might still be running Goodneighbor in the future… I never should’ve brought us out here today._ She turned her head and shut her eyes tight against the burning sensation beginning to well up. John was silent and braced a hand against the counter on her right side.

“Patches,'” His other hand reached out, gently held her chin, and turned her face back, “promise me you won’t do that again.” His hand dropped and when she opened her eyes, his face was markedly closer. She noticed the blood speckled on his right upper cheek. She couldn’t tell if it was his or not.

“No.” Scar said simply. His face was serious when he searched hers. She wasn’t sure what he found there, but the air between them thickened and the silence hung heavy. His thumb brushed against her right hip where it was braced against the counter. Her eyes snapped to his. Scar inhaled deeply when he leaned in and managed to tear herself away by turning her head again.

"I'm flattered you care, but I want the promise..." His lips brushed against her neck with the words and her skin prickled. _What the hell is he doing?_ When she didn’t shy from the touch, he placed a lingering feather-light kiss on her jugular and she lost the fight with the shiver she’d been trying to stifle. Heat slithered from her neck down to her toes and she wondered if he had felt how fast her heart was beating. He hummed as if in confirmation, then leaned back enough to whisper in her ear without touching her this time.

“Promise or I’ll do it again,” he breathed.

“You wouldn’t if I forbid it,” Scar stated, voice still quiet.

“True, but you won’t... you want this as bad I as I do and you'd rather make the promise first and wait for one of us to slip like I did in DC.” A sideways smile slid over his face. _He's not entirely wrong, but he doesn't know what's holding me back... dammit._

“What makes you so sure?” Her voice didn’t quite have the edge she was hoping for, but it was enough.

“…You haven’t actually denied me yet.” He no longer looked so confident. CLICK. Scarlett glanced over his shoulder and sighed in defeat. John stopped at the sound and flinched at the pressure of a gun barrel between his shoulder blades. He raised his arms with his hand ups. An intruder stood behind them in the shadows. _Of course our raucous battle outside garnered some attention._  

“Neither of you move. You’re both pawns in my game now.” John burst into a toothy smile immediately.

“Hey Sunshine, mind lowering the gun? My friend and I would appreciate it.” Scarlett watched John nonchalantly drop his arms back down.

“Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.” Her eyes darted from Scarlett back to John. The barrel didn’t waver.

“If you’re going to point your gun at me with those terrible metaphors, then I’ll call you what I want _Fahr_.” He turned and faced her.

“What’re you doing out here with a Fat Man anyway?” She didn’t drop the barrel so much as she aimed it to the side.

“Wasn’t me,” he jabbed his thumb at Scar, “that was my friend… and a Deathclaw.” Her eyes perked up at the mention of the wasteland terror. _Of course she's into Deathclaws. She's a tough and independent teen. Deathclaws are the flightless irradiated dragons of the Wastes._

“What’s your name pawn?” She asked.

“Scar, but call me what you like. Any pawn can become a Queen," Scarlett stepped forward and held out her hand, "...What do you go by?” The young woman looked at her appraisingly and finally lowered the barrel of her gun.

“Fahrenheit.” One corner of her mouth quirked up slightly and she reached out and gave Scar’s hand a firm shake accompanied by a curt nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that distracts the Deathclaw is The Fat Man by Fats Domino. Link to the song below.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIz1cPfTRW4
> 
> And finally a bit of Fahrenheit!


	19. Ashes to Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey... better late than never right? Hope you enjoy it even though it's long overdue! 
> 
> Would love to hear any feedback y'all may have.
> 
> *Warnings: Strong Language/Profanity *

“You’re here a week early. Why?” Fahrenheit finally stepped further into the light and directed the question at John. She was lacking her signature metal armor and stood half a foot shorter than her more mature self, yet still managed to exude intimidation. Stiff posture. Freshly bandaged face. A full head of short-cropped, rust-colored hair and a frown that almost looked a bit poutier on her younger, rounder face. Not that Scarlett would ever say such a thing.

“I have a proposition. Political unfortunately,” John shook his head and moved to lean against the counter behind him, “Y’know how I mentioned my brother last time? Your dear old dad is – “

“NOT my dad,” she barked matter of fact. Her fingers tightened on the grip of the rifle held at her side.

“Yeah, not my best facetious jab either,” his lounging posture seemed more of a slouch when he rubbed the back of his neck and continued. “He’s runnin’ for mayor on an anti-ghoul platform and the Upper Stands are eatin’ it up… unless opinion of him can be swayed, he’ll likely win.”

“…You planning on swaying popular opinion?” She narrowed her eyes and shifted her gaze between the pair. John reached into his jacket for his pack then lit a cigarette while Scar gave a taut smile and worried her bottom lip. Fahrenheit’s brow furrowed at the awkward pause. She kept silent as her brain puzzled over the pieces in play. Suddenly it clicked and her face dropped.

“It’s me isn’t it?” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. John looked down at his cigarette and took another drag.

“Shoulda brought this up earlier…” he muttered with a sigh of smoke and glanced up at her. “S’that cheek of yours alright? Your ma’ should be lookin’ out better… where’s she at?” At his words, her hand raised absently toward the gauze on her face, but when their eyes met, it froze. She dropped it suddenly and her face twisted into a scowl. She looked away and was quiet for a moment.

“She’s gone,” her voice held a note of finality and bitterness. There was no need to elaborate and silence filled the room.

“I’m sorry Fahr…” John’s brows dipped and he took a step forward before halting again. His hands twitched, but otherwise hung limp at his sides, one still limply holding a cigarette. Scar got the impression he wanted to comfort her, but knew better than to try physically. _Maybe she doesn’t like being touched?_

“Don’t be. Her ashes returned to the Wastes,” she still hadn’t looked back at him. Instead her eyes focused on the empty broken streets beyond the shattered window. John shook his head solemnly.

“How long you been out here alone?” He asked quietly.

“Does it matter?” She snapped and turned away from the window to glare at him. “We should get moving. I doubt I’m the only one who noticed your explosive entrance.” She slung her rifle across her back and picked up a large minigun. John went rigid at her terse words, but Scarlett reached out and lightly grasped his forearm to draw his attention away.

“We can continue this conversation elsewhere. Let’s comb the place and move out.” Scar released his arm and looked at him with raised brows. He swallowed his words for Fahrenheit with a nod then opted for another response, this one for Scarlett.

“Fine, but you still gotta carry the Fat Man,” he dropped his cigarette and extinguished it with a boot heel. She rolled her eyes, hefted the weapon over her shoulder, and grunted from the strain. _This will not slow us down and I refuse to ask John to carry it._ The trio looted the trunk and the rest of the building before venturing back out into the ruins.

Few words were spoken on the journey, a snarky criticism or a phrase here and there. It was becoming oddly torturous to Scarlett’s curiosity about the newest member of the group. Finally, John broke the ice and monotony of their quiet trip to DC in one fell swoop after they had dispatched a pack of ferals.

“Things were really heating up back there, eh?” John nudged the smoking barrel of Ashmaker with his own gun barrel. He wasn’t smiling yet, but his eyes shone mischief and his cheeks were taut with barely restrained joy. Fahrenheit took one look and the corners of her lips titled down.

“John…“ She growled and picked up the pace a little as she stepped over a burnt corpse.

“That one feral – y’know the one with the fire in his eyes and the hands," he reached out towards her, fingers curling and clawing with mock desperation, “I think he had the hots for ya Fahr.”

“Stop,” Fahrenheit demanded without a pause in her step nor a look at the spectacle behind her. Scarlett stifled a snicker at the display and grimaced with the effort. _Gonna be sore tomorrow…_

“They were drawn like moths to flame,” a grin cracked as he spoke. Fahr could avoid the sight of him, but there was no escaping that big mouth of his.

“No more,” she continued her breakneck pace, but grumbled, “…the hell is a moth anyway?”

“Pre-war bug!“ Scarlett chimed in with the enthusiasm of a winning contestant on a game show. John’s smile broadened.

“Rhetorical question,” came Fahrenheit’s bored reply. 

“Your minigun was just too hot for them to handle anyway,” he was following so close he almost ran into her when she stopped abruptly and spun.

“Dad jokes John? Really?” She jeered then pointed a meaningful glance at Scar.

“She having your baby or something?” Scar drew a hand to her chest with a dramatic gasp and wrinkled nose.

“No! I can’t say the same for Thandie though…” She gave John a sassy look.

“Aw, whose side are you on anyway?” He replied, then looked back to Fahrenheit.

“I’m making up for the deficiency in your childhood.”

“Neither you nor your brother are my dad,” she scoffed and crossed her arms, “So no dad jokes.”

“He is quite the punny uncle though,” Scarlett added with a chipper lilt in her voice. They both immediately faced her direction. Fahrenheit’s upper right lip curled back from her teeth in an agitated sneer. John gave her a nod of approval, then angled a smug grin back at Fahr.

“Hmph,” the fiery teen turned on her heel to resume their course. He shrugged and followed along, still smiling while Scar trotted after them with awkward wincing steps.

“If we don’t make it to DC before dark, you need to convince me this cause is worth enduring your jokes,” she called over her shoulder.

The group was close to the Great Green Jewel when the sun began to sink, but a day of fighting baddies had taken its toll. They stopped and unanimously elected to continue before the crack of dawn. After seeking out a safe shelter, a perimeter of mines was placed, and a fire was made. Once they had all eaten, Fahrenheit reclined with a raised brow then slid an expectant look back and forth between her fireside companions.

“So, why the hell am I here so late in the game? Details,” her form was rigid when she pulled up Ashmaker and began disassembling it.

“I shoulda acted sooner, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about admitting you’re a McDonough,” John pulled the tie from his hair and worked a hand through the tangled mess with a sigh.

“That’s a cop out. Gimme the full reason,” she demanded with a stroke of an oiled rag on the broken down barrel. John looked into the fire and furrowed his brow.

“How is that a cop out? Maybe he’ll realize how fucked-up his plans are without intervention,” he answered. Fahrenheit cocked her own brow at that, her eyes on John as she absently cleaned the weapon. The burning wood cracked loud in the ensuing silence. Scarlett leaned forward, wrapped her arms around her thighs, and rested her cheek against her bent knees.

“He’d never abandon his mayoral dreams for ethics,” Fahrenheit spat into the fire. John bristled.

“What more do you want Fahr? An apology?” She frowned and clenched her jaw at his words, then shot up from her place on the floor. Scarlett watched warily, her head rising from its resting place along with the tension in the room.

“No apology, but don’t sugar-coat it for me,” she bit out with a brief pause, “Be honest. You waited this long because you’re scared to admit your brother is a monster.”

Fahr glowered at him and Scar marveled at how the look managed to be scalding and icy at the same time. _Glad I’m not on the receiving end…_

John visibly flinched at the verbal onslaught and withering gaze, but didn’t deny it. He dug his hands deep into his jacket pockets and stared into the flickering fire again. She finally gave up scowling at him to pace back and forth several times.

“I need to shoot something… I’ll be back,” Fahrenheit huffed. She grabbed her rifle and headed for the exit.

“Wait! Hold up, it’s not safe out there now,” Scar protested, her arms dropping to the floor to push herself up and follow.

“It’s never safe out there,” she corrected, “and if you don’t let me go shoot something, then I’ll shoot you.” With those parting words, she stepped out the door. Scarlett was tempted to chase after her, but didn’t want to waste a stimpak testing her threat. She turned around to find John sitting with his elbows propped on his knees and his face buried in his palms. _I doubt he’s pouting over Fahr leaving alone…_ She walked over and crouched down next to him.

“Don’t beat yourself up. She’s a teen, they’re supposed to give adults a rough time,” she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. He lifted his head and caught her eye briefly before looking away. He didn’t appear to really be looking at anything in the room though.

“She’s not wrong y’know… but, him and Fahr are the only family I got left,” Scarlett was about to tell him the justification was unnecessary when he spoke up again.

“If he gets elected and follows through with his decree…” He trailed off and his gaze settled back on the fire.

“Working on a backup plan?” Scarlett faked optimism and tried to deny the weight sinking from her gut down to her toes. _We’re so close we might not need one… this could actually work. Then I can get back to checking in on Amari and going home._

“There’s only so many options,” John’s forehead creased and he shook his head again as if to dispel some lingering doubt. His jaw muscles flexed for a moment, then he was digging a jet inhaler from the pocket of his leather jacket.

“Should you really be doing that right now?” She nodded at the red canister.

“You got a better way to relax doll?” John smirked, but it was all lips. The usual spark of roguish mirth was absent from his eyes, replaced by something more desperate and Scar pulled her lower lip between her teeth at the sight. He gave the chem a few light shakes and lifted it to take a hit.

“I – can think of a few ways,” Scarlett placed a hand over his before the jet could reach his mouth. Truthfully, she didn’t have anything particular in mind other than stopping him. John stilled at the contact and his eyes, blue as pre-war water, found hers like a river flows downhill.

“…I’m open to suggestions,” He drawled and brushed his thumb across her fingers. Scar’s stomach did an anxious flip and she flushed while her mind grasped for ideas. She felt a little too aware of herself as she opened her mouth to elaborate.

“What if I suggested… dancing?” She asked with uncertainty. John’s arched brows lifted with a breathy chuckle.

“Tempting, but didn’t ya dance enough with the Deathclaw earlier?” He replied, prompting a soft smile and roll of eyes from her, “…how ‘bout a rain check?” She gave a reluctant nod and a companionable quiet fell over the room. John dropped his eyes to their joined hands. When he ran his thumb along her fingers again it seemed more thoughtful than suggestive.

“What’s up with the sudden edginess around chems?” Scar’s back stiffened at the question.

“It’s nothing,” she shifted uncomfortably, “just go easy tonight, we got a big day tomorrow.”

“Aye, cap’n. I’ll try not to go overboard,” John said with a wink. She released his hand, and the Jet, with a shake of her head.

“Well, the cap’n’s turnin’ in for the evening,” Scarlett scooted away to pull out her bedroll and crawled in after slipping out of her armor. She closed her eyes to the heated creaks and snaps of the smoldering wood.

“Sweet dreams,” he said. She smiled sleepily and murmured the same words back to him. Her limbs sagged into the paltry padding in relief. When she slipped into slumber it was with the metallic tangy scent of Jet and the smokiness of the campfire in her nose.

* * *

_"What’s ox-toesin anyway?” Hancock stumbled over the word with a surprising amount of confidence and continued cleaning under his brittle fingernails with his combat knife. He lounged comfortably in the corner of the couch in Scarlett’s living room. His boots were propped up on the coffee table._

_“Oxy-to-cin. It’s a hormone used to induce labor, but it also plays a vital role in bonding and sexual reproduction. Commonly called the love hormone,” Scarlett explained with a wrist thrown over her eyes. Her head rested on her backpack not far from Hancock’s thigh and she was stretched across the couch with her legs dangling over the armrest. Dogmeat was curled on the floor below her, a dirty torn teddy as a pillow of his own._

_“Hm. Very clinical… should I call ya doc instead of general?” He teased with a final flick of his blade._

_“Uhg. Neither,” Scar grumbled and adjusted her forearm to cover more of her face. She wished she hadn’t fawned over the new magazine in front of him. Now he was curious and chuckling at her expense._

_“So… bonding?” Hancock sheathed his knife and sat with an attentive look on his face as he stared down at her. Not that Scarlett would admit she could see it through the crook of her arm._

_“Yeah. Bonding,” she parroted, weighing her next response._

_“Like what…?” He pressed, fishing his pack of cigarettes from his frock coat. Seems little synth Shaun wasn’t the only one interested in her newfound literature. She strained her brain for examples other than the obvious._

_“Long hugs, snuggling, orgasms,” She said the last one quietly and was quick to add, “or even petting a pup.”_

_Her other arm reached out and scratched Dogmeat behind the ears. He gave an appreciative whine and nuzzled her hand for more when she stopped. Once he’d figured out there was no more, Dogmeat stretched and padded lazily over to Hancock._

_“…Well, at least I only gotta worry about the dog threatening my high,” his lips split in a craggy grin as he reached down to ruffle Dogmeat’s scruff under the bandana. Scar snorted._

_“Until you get back to Goodneighbor,” she added lightly. Hancock’s smile faltered a bit._

_“I’m really not much of touring ghoul these days,” he remarked._

_“Coulda fooled me,” Scarlett thought back to the blonde molded against his side when they had argued recently. Hancock cleared his throat and took a deep inhale of tobacco._

_“Things ain’t always what they seem," tendrils of smoke curled away from his mouth, which was set in a slight frown. Scarlett wasn’t quite sure what to make of his comment, but she suddenly felt petty for hinting at the encounter and bringing up the painful reminder of the closure he’d never get._

_“I’m sorry about your brother… for what it’s worth, I woulda tried to find info about him at the Institute if I’d known before blowing the place to hell,” she offered morosely._

_“S’alright… I know you woulda," was his only reply. The room fell into relative silence again. Hancock took a final drag and ground the filter into an ashtray. Despite how soft the music from the Pip-Boy played, the tune almost felt intrusive with how still the settlement was at this time of night._

_“Why’dya do the test run?” Anyone who didn’t know him better would have thought it was simple curiosity, but Scarlett knew him well enough to hear the underlying concern._

_“Seemed like the right place to begin,” she said._

_“Yeah, but where would you like it to end?” His eyes followed her in the dim light when she reached out and shut off the music with a sigh._

_“…and they lived happily ever after," she mumbled and rubbed her forehead, “Look, I know I won’t ever get the idyllic pre-war life, if I’m honest it never existed anyway… but saving my family, living in the wasteland, and building a better life? That’s about as close to ‘ever after’ as I could get.” Scarlett silently applauded herself for not specifying which family she meant. She’d been quite confused about it herself lately._

_“Your very own fallout fairytale eh?” He popped a few chalky pills from a Mentats tin._

_“Wouldn’t it be nice…” she tipped her chin back to look up at him. “If you could go back and change one thing about your past, what would it be?”_

_"Haven’t we gone over this before? I wouldn’t go back,” he tossed an arm over the back of the couch. The chemical smell masquerading as grape tickled her nose and an ironic smile pulled her lips at the thought of the artificial flavor outlasting the real thing. The future had turned out to be a funny, but fucked-up sort of place._

_“Oh c’mon, It’s only hypothetical,” she pushed._

_“Before it was only hypothetical… now we know the device works. You’re not foolin’ me sister,” she shrugged against the couch and closed her eyes. Dogmeat began lightly snoring from his place on the floor. Hancock was stirring beside her. Scar wasn’t surprised when Red Menace beeped to life on her Pip-Boy a moment later. She pulled her feet up and braced them against the armrest, wriggling her way further up along the couch and knocking her knapsack-pillow to the floor. The top her head bumped Hancock’s leg._

_“Do you… mind?” She hadn’t meant to say it with a timid pause, but it was too late now. He pretended not to notice and simply lifted an arm._

_“Thanks Hancock," She nestled her head on his thigh with a small smile. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears._

_“Anytime Pa – partner.” Odd… Had he ever called her that before? She was too far gone to question it any further._

* * *

 Scarlett was coated in sweat and tangled in her bedroll. She blinked awake to hushed voices. The fire was still crackling and casting shadows on the walls. She was about to go back to sleep, but a word or two had snagged her attention and she listened in, motionless.

“…scouting the final parts for the incendiary mod I was working on when a group of raiders attacked our shelter. I arrived home right as Ma set fire to the house with them all inside, including herself… I couldn’t get to her in time. Got burned trying…” the arm of Fahr's shadow on the wall shifted as she gestured to her cheek.

“No one survived. Found the minigun in the ashes and it seemed a fitting host for the mod… called it Ashmaker.”

She patted the weapon affectionately. John hummed. Scarlett definitely felt like she was eavesdropping on something very personal now. She shut her eyes, then made an effort to take slower breaths, and managed to pass out again soon after. She didn't dream in memories this time. Instead she dreamt of scorching fire, suffocating mushroom clouds, and lost ghouls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, things are 'bout to get crazyyy. Thanks for reading!


	20. Dust to Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY MUSE HAS RETURNED. HUZZAH! Hope you enjoy :]
> 
> *Warnings: Profanity/Strong Language, Graphic Violence, Drug Use*

Scarlett opened groggy eyes to a dusty, graying wall with cracks barely visible in the early morning darkness. She could hear faint rustlings across the room. A grumble escaped her when she struggled out of her twisted bedroll.

_Why didn’t John or Fahr wake me for watch? What time is it?_

She stretched with her back to the dying embers of last night’s fire and allowed her limbs to relish the lingering warmth momentarily before bending over to retrieve her Pip-Boy from her bag. Scar blinked several times in confusion.

_Where the hell is my bag?_

She turned to question her two companions. Instead there were two Gunners, struggling to restrain the kicking, swinging, furious maelstrom that was Fahrenheit. One of them was desperately attempting to keep a gag in her mouth. A third Gunner had just finished piling their bags in a corner, and was raising a rifle in her direction.

Scarlett scrambled behind a dented up filing cabinet just as a spray of bullets broke the tile floor. She glanced around wildly. Their weapons were still in the bags. John was nowhere in sight _._ She tensed, and pulled her emergency combat knife from her boot.

“C’mon sweetheart... you’re a little old for hide and seek.” The muffled scrape of approaching boots had her drawing deep breaths.

A scream ripped through the room then; agonized and male. Scarlett chanced a peek around her cover. One of the Gunners restraining Fahrenheit had crumpled to the floor, her riding him down and attempting to wrestle his weapon away. Scarlett didn’t wait to see what happened.

She launched herself at the closest foe. His elbow drove into her lungs, but didn't stop her momentum. Knife grated against bone, sinking deep into flesh that made her hands slip with something hot and metallic. The knife jerked, slipping from her grip as they hit the floor. Her head spun.

The abrupt bark of a shotgun rang out. Scar sucked in a breath that stabbed at her lungs like needles and tried to push herself up with blood slicked hands. The Gunner beneath her was sputtering and going limp before her eyes, especially after she retrieved her knife.

The blood was all his.

Scar wiped her hands on her pant legs frantically and pushed him over, grabbing at his discarded gun. He wheezed blood at the movement, clearly in too much pain to fight back or stand up. From the noises he was making, it sounded like she’d severely pierced his lung. He wouldn’t last long.

Scarlett stood shakily, gun aimed loosely from the hip. One other Gunner was still alive, but the gaping chest wound said he wouldn’t be for very long. Fahr was straddling the last one, viciously beating him with the butt of his own gun. He wasn’t moving. John was rushing forward to pull her off of him.

“Simmer down Fahrenheit,” he had gotten a hold of her shirt collar, but she rounded on him in a flash.

“Enough with the puns!” she growled and batted his arms away.

“Heh… would you believe that was an accident?”

“Where were you?” She seethed with gritted teeth, ignoring his quip.

“We’re fine, right? We had it covered.” Assessing red-rimmed eyes roamed over her from beneath creased brows. The glint of desperation from last night was still evident.

“Where. Were. You,” she jabbed him in the chest with her index finger.

John hesitated before wiping his sweaty brow and muttering, “dealing with the one outside.”

Fahrenheit took a threatening step forward and Scar wondered whether she’d end up playing referee between the two. Instead, Fahr just searched John’s face with a fire that matched her hair.

“Yeah, dealing in chems too,” she scoffed and shook her head.

“Who says I can’t do both?” he replied airily. The absurdity of the comment didn’t strike Scarlett until she looked a little closer. Red rimmed eyes, skin glistening with sweat, and even a slight tremor in the hands. Neither Fahrenheit nor Scarlett offered a rebuttal. The conversation just died in an awkward shuffling of bags and weaponry.

A dull ache had begun in Scar’s head along with the dread over impending events. Guilt and fear were rearing their heads fiercely enough to make hers spin.  _Would John have decided to do any of this without me? Am I pushing him too hard?_

Still, she was the first to be ready and waited for her companions by the door. The teen brushed past, fuming and wordless. John was also silent, yet his eyes fleetingly met Scar’s as they all left the shoddy shelter behind. Tumultuous, stormy seas; not his usual crystal clear waters. The dark circles under them said whatever battles he was facing kept him up through the night.

Scarlett let it go.

The sun rose slowly as they trekked through the last of the journey. Stealth tactics ruled the morning and any foes that could be avoided were left undisturbed. A silence fell over the group, even when there were no enemies around. The closer they got to the city, the greater the intensity of the seemingly unbreakable quiet. The tension was tangible, thick enough Scarlett would've sworn she could hear it. She almost believed her mind was playing tricks on her, until she realized it was growing louder.

There was noise in the air. As they approached the front gates of the Great Green Jewel, it became clear they were hearing the townsfolk. Some were arguing, some questioning, but all of them were clamoring for attention.

When the trio entered the market, they were forced to press close to one another just to make it through the crowd. The ache in Scar's head was deepening to a throb. The rumble of too many people and too much dust kicked into the air was not a pleasant combination. Scarlett spotted makeshift polling stations, but they were unmanned. The candidates were nowhere to be found, and the market was suspiciously devoid of ghoul citizens. Security guards were everywhere though, attempting to keep the crowds calm and lessen the chaos.

John spotted Wiseman speaking with a guard. He stuck out like a scarred, sore thumb among the sea of people, and it seemed most folk were giving him a wide berth.

“– can’t give out any information,” the guard could be overheard when they stepped up.

“What about the election? Where are the candidates?” Wiseman asked.

“No further comment until the head of Security speaks with them both.”

“What happened?” John nudged Wiseman.

“Rumor is a citizen was attacked by a ghoul that became feral,” he rasped.

John scoffed and shook his head in disbelief, “Really? I know everyone says it’s what happens eventually, but did anyone actually see it?”

Wiseman seemed at a loss for words and looked to the guard once again for answers. Scarlett looked up to find the guard staring at her through shaded lenses. _Black sunglasses._

John and Wiseman were talking again in hushed voices. Fahrenheit was standing with her arms crossed, eyes following the conversation. Scarlett couldn’t hear any of it over the tunnel vision that ensnared her. _Red eyebrows…_

“Do you have a Geiger counter?” She blurted. The guard didn’t react much, but his left brow twitched ever-so-slightly just above the top of his glasses.

“No, mine’s in the shop. That Pip-Boy should have one though. Maybe you could assist us…”

“Anything you need. Always happy to help the authorities.” The guard looked her over again, then gave a slight nod.

“Meet me at the Dugout. Tomorrow.” The guard excused himself suddenly from the group and headed off at a brisk pace.

“Wait! What time?” Scarlett took a step in his direction, tempted to follow, but he was already disappearing around the corner. She froze upon remembering the current issue, then turned around to find a bewildered looking trio.

“What was that about?” John narrowed his eyes at Scar.

“Uhm. It was about… errr-radiation,” she managed. John cocked a brow at her and Fahrenheit snorted. Wiseman tilted his head a bit. Obviously she wasn’t going to get out of this so easily, and it certainly wasn’t a moment for honesty.

“Y’know, weapons that shoot radiation. It could be foul play. Security should… test for those sorts of things,” she mumbled, then cleared her throat and took a step back. _That mayyy have sounded more ridiculous out loud than it did in my head - my stupid, throbbing head._

Scarlett took another step back, “Okay, y’all have this covered right? I need to go take care of something.”

“We just got here.”

“Right, we made it. Now Wiseman can help you both. There’s not much else I can do here… but I might be able to help Amari,” she explained. Wiseman looked back and forth between them before studying Fahrenheit with obvious interest.

John huffed and pushed a hand through the locks that had escaped his hair-tie; a nervous gesture that struck Scar as familiar. He no longer had the hair, but she’d lost track of how many times she’d seen Hancock lift his hat to rub a hand over his scarred scalp. It made her chest ache to see where the habit started. Oh, but her aching head was much worse and the nausea was beginning to creep in. She needed Med-X, and soon.

“John, I understand this is a pivotal moment for Diamond City and its citizens,” Scarlett paused here and took a shaky breath before continuing, “I just can’t be a part of it. I’ve got my own problems to take care of. Plus, I really need to rent a room at the Dug-Out now that the couch is taken.”

“Wait… she’s been sleeping on my couch-bed?” Fahrenheit butted in.

“ _Your_ couch-bed?” Wiseman’s eyes flitted back to John.

There was a pregnant pause as John’s gaze lingered on Scarlett with a look she couldn’t decipher if her life depended on it. Her pulse pounded in her head like the footsteps of a circling behemoth. John finally looked back to Wiseman before continuing.

“I kinda lied ‘bout why I wanted the couch-bed. It was mostly for my niece here, Fahrenheit. Yeah, you heard right… and we really need to talk.”

Scarlett scrunched her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, willing the ache to go away. She couldn't focus on the conversation anymore, but techincally she'd heard it already. It was a little too easy to let herself drop from the discussion. When she opened her eyes, she stepped away without another word and slipped around the corner heading straight for the Dug-Out.

She made it through the doors, and muttered a mostly recognizable request to Yefim for a room. After handing over the caps and pocketing the key, she moved on, pace slowed, until the pounding in her head became louder than her own steps even.

She sagged against a wall, disoriented and hypersensitive. The lights were too bright. She knew there was only a little further to go, but couldn’t bear to keep her eyes open. A warm weight wrapped around her arm and pulled her up suddenly. Her knees wobbled, but she stayed upright with the new support.

“C’mon, let’s get you to your room.”

Scarlett looked up, blinking blearily and expecting to find the giant pseudo-slav escorting her just as he would any other "drunk". _Seriously, how do the Bobrov brothers have accents?_ Although, the thought didn’t sit right… had she heard an accent? Her eyes finally focused on… _sunglasses._

She was not in the right mind to have a conversation with anyone at the moment, let alone Deacon. The ever-present throb in her head was too distracting to keep anything hidden from the spy.

“Thanks,” she leaned into him when he pulled her arm over his shoulder and hoisted her up more.

“Just your friendly neighborhood Diamond City guard.” He adjusted his grip before continuing.

“Mhm, very... convincing.”

They hobbled towards her room, and she shifted her weight from the man at her side to the wall again as they came to a halt in front of her door. _Where did I put the damn key?_ Scarlett was still fishing in her pockets when she realized the door had been opened.

“Ha. I don’t recall giving you that,” she mumbled and stumbled into the room.

“Your loose pocket sure did,” he followed her in and reached for the handle to close the door, but a rigid arm braced against it, preventing any further action.

“What're you doin' here brother? She ain't in the condition for company...” The arm shoved the door wide open and John stepped inside looking sweaty and irate. Scarlett all but collapsed onto the bed.

"Well, they say two's company, but three's a crowd, so we're all good! Plus, I always wanted a brother."

“Oh, both of you cut it out. John, he’s a – a friend.” Scarlett, still face-down in the sheets, flapped an arm around weakly, as if to wave off any concerns.

“Yeah, John. We’re fast friends.” Deacon flashed him an antagonistic, thousand-watt smile.

“She has a surprising amount of those,” John said dryly.

"So are you her brother too? Jilted lover maybe?" Deacon, to his credit, hardly flinched at the growl coming from John. _Huh, apparently John was growling long before turning ghoul._ Scarlett managed to restrain a hiccup of a giggle and felt her head throb again with the effort.

“Shouldn’t you be with Fahr?” she asked, rolling over and extracting a Med-Ex syringe from her bag.

“Fahr’s resting at my place. Wanted to check on you before seeking out my brother. You were actin’ strange,” he cast a glare towards Deacon.

"So, just to be clear... are we talking about your actual brother this time? Seems like you have a large family."

"You have no idea."

Scar rolled her eyes and struggled to sit up straight before speaking, “I’m gonna need to use this Med-Ex, or the bucket in the corner… maybe both.”

“Lemme help ya with the needle.” John sat down beside her on the bed.

“So, if he’s the doctor, do I get to play nurse?”

“I’m sure you have the outfit somewhere.”

Deacon simply grinned in response. John had her make a fist, then slid the needle into the crook of her arm and pressed on the plunger. Scar leaned her forehead against his shoulder when he pulled the needle out and rubbed his thumb soothingly over the skin.

“So, who’s your friend?” John was back to glaring at Deacon.

Scarlett pulled back and reclined on the bed. She licked her lips and tried to compose her thoughts. _Deacon can’t know I told John about the Railroad, and John can’t know my connection to Deacon._

“A friend from work. I’ll be helping with the inveg- investigation, remember?”

“Do ya work with Diamond City guards often? You’re awfully familiar with the locals for a vault dweller.” John stood and stared down at her with narrowed eyes.

“It’sssuh - kinda long story.” Her tongue had begun feeling thick from the Med-Ex. _Goddamn this stuff works fast._

“I love story time!” Deacon rubbed his hands together animatedly and sat down cross-legged on the floor. John frowned at his apparent ease and eagerness. Scarlett knew better than to fall for it.

She straightened up with a sigh and rubbed at her temples, “I’m not much of an orator these days.”

“These days? Wanna skip back to when you were?” John crossed his arms, eyebrows drawn in frustration.

"200 years ago, in a courthouse not far away..." Scarlett said under her breath. John's face pinched a bit as he tried to make sense of the words he'd caught. Scar didnt elaborate, just looked between the two men and shook her head drearily.

“What do you wanna know? My life story, full of danger, monsters, and robots?” The light glinted off Deacon’s glasses. His face gave nothing away, but the movement caught Scar’s eye. He was still listening. Intently. _Shit, shouldn’t have made a joke about robots…_

“She’s great at deflecting questions huh?” John said to Deacon, who held out both hands as if weighing the factors.

“It remains to be seen," he said after little consideration.

"I don't need fancy tales Patches. The truth would be nice."

“I’ve never lied to you about anything.” The pain in her head was fading with the help of the Med-Ex, but her stomach was still turning.

“Yet, you’ve told me very little.”

Scarlett held up her finger, then staggered over to the bucket in the corner, barely making it in time. She heaved until nothing came up, then wiped her mouth and rocked back onto her butt. Her stomach felt better almost immediately.

“John, my head is killing me. We should table this discussion for later, y'know?"

“There ain't a table in sight," he deadpanned, uncrossing his arms.

"Incorrigible..." She groaned, pointing a wavering, accusatory finger in his general direction without looking.

"Strength of character," he corrected without pause. The spy rose suddenly from the floor, dusting the the seat of his pants.

"Look, I enjoy a good lover's quarrel as much as the next guy," Deacon chimed in, then muttered quickly "which is not at all," then raised his voice again "but, we should get down to business when you're feeling up to it... Patches?" His voice raised in pitch at the end, making her moniker sound even more ridiculous and questionable.

"Please don't call me that, I might puke again..."

"Get your own nickname," John growled low.

"Alright, geez! I'll work on it..." Deacon waved them off as he headed for the door, saying over his shoulder, "It's much too innocent for a charmer like her anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ALIVEEEEE!!! AGAIN!!! Sorry it took so long, but I gotta say 2017 was a helluva year, and 2018 is shaping up to be about the same.  
> I lost several loved ones, finished my degree, moved, got a new job... needless to say, a lot has happened. I do intend to finish this by the end of 2018. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting, it is very much appreciated <3


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